One (or rather two) of the most interesting and appealing things about blogging is its immediacy and its brevity. Why wait a day for a full-scale investigation into a story by a national newspaper when you can read a journalist's opinions on it straightaway, and in just five minutes?
Then I come in and cock it all up by blogging regularly once a week and at great length. I suppose one way of looking at it is that I'm stripping down the boundaries, man, and I'm not restricting myself to a blog's...restrictions. But alternatively, it might just be that I trust my readers to have good attention spans and a good enough memory to return later if they're short on time.
Why am I saying this now? Because, writing a piece on American politics as I speak – well, not literally, since I'm obviously writing this as I speak and as it happens I'm not actually speaking at all – I can tell you that it is going to be epic. There's just too much to say. Sorry.
So if you're looking for a quick opinion on the American presidential election, here it is: I am expecting and dreading a Republican victory. But if you want a bit more than that, read on. And if you don't have long to read this, as you are perfectly entitled to be, what with this being a blog and everything, you can always take a look at the other stories and bookmark the first one for later.
Hell, who am I to give you advice? This blog is for you, not me. I hope you enjoy it. Until next Sunday then.
McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet
God Save The Queen
Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes
Alex Ferguson is a tosser
Admin: a word to the wise
McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet
No blood on the carpet, but then it wasn't that dirty a fight. The first televised debate between John McCain and Barack Obama has been and gone and there was no clear winner. It was a surprisingly clean affair, with Obama's assertiveness, using the words "when I'm President", seeming a bit incongruous in a debate between two candidates striving to seek legitimacy rather than state a case for election.
Whether this will last remains to be seen. But equally fascinating were the shenanigans on McCain's side beforehand. The Republican candidate tried to postpone the debate to allow a greater concentration on the current financial crisis. He did not succeed.
It may look like weakness, but trying to delay the debate was actually a very shrewd move by McCain. Not only did it give the appearance of a candidate in touch with the common man worried where his money's going; it neutralised the blow the financial crisis has had on his campaign by showing that he acknowledged the problem and wanted to resolve it straightaway. Obama, on the other hand, was in danger of appearing a power-hungry outsider not interested in the people he wants to lead.
But he pulled it back with aggression and good old common sense. You want to help the economy, John? Don't we all? But people want to know – now – what you're planning to do and I don't see why that should happen behind closed doors. Doing two things at once is an integral part of leading the country and hey, if you're not ready to do that, I'm happy to step in.
The bail-out is interesting. It looks like a bit of a rabbit out of a hat, but it was always on the cards. Matt, the cartoonist in The Telegraph, drew a fantastic cartoon, reproduced here with thanks, that sums it up quite well.
And the debate itself? Well...it's complicated – which is why analysts are choosing to strip it down by saying that McCain won on the all-important foreign policy front, but it was essentially a draw. I'm not sure about that. Obama made the better points but McCain made the better appearance and sadly, that's what's going to count. I would say that although neither candidate emerged a clear winner, McCain probably just edged ahead in the stakes.
He drove home the experience card. I mean, he rammed it home. Everything new that Obama suggested was brought back to his alleged inexperience, and although that is his stock response, McCain was able to highlight
his own experience to bring up good decisions he made on foreign policy (apparently there are some) earlier in his career. At one point he reacted to Obama's plan to negotiate with foreign threats by saying, "So let me get this right: we sit down with Ahmadinejad and he says, 'We're going to wipe Israel off the face of the Earth' and we say, 'No, you're not'? Oh please." That was damaging. Even though McCain was parodying Obama's supposed naïveté to an extreme, it made the Democratic senator a laughing stock in the hall and suggested he's...well...just too nice to tackle terrorism.
McCain automatically has the problem of having to admit to mistakes the Republicans have made in office, but he's somehow working it to his advantage. "We Republicans came to power to change government, and government changed us." Humility, however false. If Obama points out errors made in the Bush administration – such as landing the country in $700 billion of debt – then unless McCain is personally involved he can reply, "Yes, we've made mistakes, but I can change that", or even "I regret that mistake but I've learnt from it", bringing him back to the advantage of his experience. He also wins the award for stating the obvious: "We cannot allow a second Holocaust – let's make that very clear." Thanks for that, John.
And most powerfully, he can rally the troops. He used the debate over the financial crisis to say he has a fundamental belief in the American worker, whom he claims is better than any other in the world, to pull America out of this hole through sheer hard work. Who cares that an individual's hard work can't pull a country out of a $700 billion debt? McCain realises how much sweat I put into my job. He's on our side, unlike that black commie. I'm great! We're great! U-S-A! U-S-A!
Combine this with Obama's perceived class-related elitism and you have a problem: how can he win the blue-collar worker away from 'working man' McCain? Yes, this is bollocks, but that's their respective reputations in working-class America.
Obama's wry humour on politics can not only undermine him beside McCain's serious 'I care about American people' approach, but also appear patronising. Saying things like, "We had a 20th century mindset that basically said, 'Well, you know, [Musharraf] may be a dictator, but he's our dictator'" can come across as belittling the American public, suggesting they can't understand global politics without it being dumbed down, and however true that may be, that's not an image you want. It's a shame, because Obama has a head for a great turn of phrase, but his superb rhetoric may well act against him, not for him.
He also stuttered a bit in the debate, which I wasn't expecting, and has the unfortunate verbal tic of saying "y'know" a lot. However quickly he says it and however hard he swallows it, that "y'know" makes him appear less confident and less certain about his views. McCain's catchphrase seems to be "I'll tell ya", which is a lot more grabbing. Amazingly, his is often the real oratory.
The fact is that McCain 'won' the debate, at least on foreign policy, because he connects with more Americans. If one candidate responds to a question about Russia by talking about energy resources, and the other says he looked into Putin's eyes and saw three letters: a K, a G and a B, guess which will have workers talking by the water cooler about him. Yes, it's cheesy, yes, it's glib, but it's popular and it's going to win him the election.
I'm sorry. Excuse my pessimism. But mark my words: come Christmas, John McCain is probably going to be President of the United States of America.
We're in trouble.
God Save The Queen
Not another poll saying the Tories are ahead of us. I'm not holding a bloody election. I'm Prime Minister, not Cameron. We need to do something. What do people care about? Quick, Bryant, hand me that Daily Mail. Ah, the monarchy, eh? Very well – let's do something about it. That'll show 'em who's boss.
After a constitutional review by MP Chris Bryant, the Government is planning to rejig the way succession of the throne runs in this country. The law stating that Catholics cannot be King or Queen, and indeed that anyone inheriting the throne must make before parliament a declaration rejecting Catholicism, is to be thrown out, and so too is the requirement that the crown is automatically passed to a male heir. This means that Prince William's firstborn would be monarch upon his death even she was female.
It's a sound suggestion that obviously makes a lot of sense – there's no reason why even monarchy, the least democratic concept in the country, should be party to sexism and Catholic-bashing. I'm sure it's news that thrills Catholics and women alike, not to mention Catholic women. Finally, that insurmountable barrier is gone. They too can be Queen.
Hang on one crazy little minute though – don't you still have to be part of the royal family to do that? Isn't there some sort of requirement for someone to be born to a monarch to become one? Isn't this basically a minor amendment to an undemocratic system, perpetuating an antiquated outdated practice through supposed modernisation, and probably designed to get people behind the Labour Government again even though it affects them in absolutely no way?
I do love how people are celebrating this 'widening out' of succession, as if anyone can be King or Queen of the country now. It doesn't quite work like that. And it's a bit stupid to claim the current rules prohibiting women and Catholics from taking the throne 'clashes with the Human Rights Act'. The whole bloody idea of monarchy clashes with the Human Rights Act. Stop trying to polish a tiara-shaped turd.
Still, it's just making it fairer to those who are in line to the throne, and that runs deeper than you might think. The current law banning Catholics from the throne also applies to sons and daughters of Catholics, and those who marry them (honestly, this makes Catholics sound like mutants or something). Earlier this year Princess Anne's son Peter Phillips married Autumn Kelly, who was baptised a Catholic. He would have lost his place as 11th in line for the throne (blimey, that was a close one) but Kelly recanted her Catholicism.
Things have changed a little since the days of Thomas More. Put a crown and a sceptre in front of a wavering Catholic and they might just do a quick St. Peter impression – Jesus who?
Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes
Are you CTD? An FLK? NFN? How about GROLIES? Let's hope not. But rest assured you won't be for long – these abbreviations are falling out of fashion.
In medical circles these terms used to be thrown around like confetti, but apparently, no longer. Since you ask, they are acronyms used to describe patients, and just to warn you, most of them aren't that positive. CTD means 'Circling The Drain' (as in, dying quite rapidly), FLK means 'Funny-Looking Kid', NFN stands for 'Normal For Norfolk' (nice) and the innovative GROLIES denotes the description 'Guardian Reader Of Low Intelligence in Ethnic Skirt'.
Clearly these are brilliant, and should never fall out of fashion. My favourite was once DTS, used to describe obese patients. It means 'Danger To Shipping'. Now, though, I have fallen in love with the medical phrase TEETH, an abbreviated form of 'Tried Everything Else; Try Homeopathy'. One more secret of the medical world blown apart there.
But these acronyms aren't being used much any more, and who can be surprised? We live in a compensation culture: if you can sue somebody, you sue somebody. Twice. Surgeons are in constant fear of losing thousands if they don't get an operation exactly, perfectly right; why are they going to take risks with their job, reputation and wallet by calling a patient 'GPO' (Good for Parts Only)? What if the patient finds out? The doctor's immediately trying to settle out of court.
I don't know. Modern life is just ruining medical comedy. To quote Thornton Reed in Garth Marenghi's Darkplace: "The main reason I went into [medicine] was for the laughs – that and the pussy, and the pussy dried up a long time ago if you get my drift."
Sorry. Please don't sue me.
Alex Ferguson is a tosser
I've never liked Alex Ferguson.
When I was a naive young Spurs fan (i.e. from toddlerhood up until a few months ago, when I tore up my figurative season ticket through protest at how the club treated Dimitar Berbatov) I became increasingly frustrated with Manchester United grabbing last-minute equalisers/winners against us in the eighth minute of questionable injury time, and for this I blamed Ferguson's obvious manipulation
of referees and referees' assistants. Add to this his supreme arrogance, his absurd excuses and above all his incessant whining about referees being biased against his team – even though United have clearly had more luck with decisions than any other club in the world, ever – and you get a man that I would immediately consign to Room 101 without a second thought for his family, his friends if he has any, or the mistreatment of a grand Orwellian concept by BBC television.
But in recent months and years my intense hatred towards this waste of human tissue has been quelled slightly by another manager of equal detestitude (yes, I made that up). Arsene Wenger. Never before has such a whining hypocritical coward walked this Earth, and frankly I find it hilarious whenever Arsenal lose just because their manager is an arse.
But Ferguson's comments after their 2-0 win over Bolton have brought it all flooding back. Manchester United got a dodgy penalty after a fantastic tackle by Jlloyd JSamuel of JBolton was adjudged to be indecent. United took the chance and took the lead after an hour of being held at 0-0. Bolton boss Gary Megson called the decision "absolute nonsense" and "an absolute howler" (someone give the man a thesaurus). Ferguson responded, "I was surprised because it looked as though their lad got a foot on the ball," then, "But Rob Styles turned us down four or five times last year so maybe it is payback time. But he still owes us another four."
SHUT THE HELL UP. There is not some great conspiracy against your team, Fergs; on the contrary, referees have spent the last 15 years losing themselves in your colon. If it's beginning to even up now (I'm told decisions have finally been going against United) then that's justice, and to be honest, not enough of it. Rob Styles has not been giving bad decisions against Manchester United, and if he has it's pathetic bringing it up now. Let. It. Go.
I've never liked Alex Ferguson.
Admin: a word to the wise
Sorry, just a brief bit of shopkeeping. I have recently undertaken a new university course and for my studies I will need to keep a blog. It won't be in the same vein as Huw Davies' Week Spot, and it won't be updated only on Sundays. It will be on this site, or perhaps another site connected by an internal link, but I will endeavour to keep it separate from this review of the week's events. So if, in the next few weeks, you see a new section to this blog, don't be scared - it's all part of the plan.
Thanks.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
The Blog That Ate Everything
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Who's for a post-op quickie?
I may have allowed my fervour towards an opt-out organ donation system to take over the blog this week, so please accept my apologies if it's not as diverse as you have come to expect. It's a fascinating issue, though, and I hope that you will read it and become as passionate about it as I am.
And I've included two quickies after it as well. Generous, that's me.
Hart's in the right place
Commercial breakdown
Who You Gonna Call?
Hart's in the right place
Leave it to Wales to inject some hope into the state of healthcare provision in the UK. Leave it to Wales. And it seems the British Government is quite happy to do just that.
In the interest of fairness, I should say that this isn't always down to Westminster being rubbish – well, sometimes it is – but the Welsh Assembly being brilliant. Thanks to the Assembly, Wales has free prescriptions and free hospital parking. Good, innit? And now it may have an opt-out organ donation system ahead of England as well (not that it's a competition or anything), allowing every dead person's organs to be used for donation unless they specifically request they are not, instead of the current process of getting organs just from registered donors. When it comes to healthcare, the Welsh Assembly pulls out the stops the British Government seems happy to leave in.
Seeing Edwina Hart, Health Minister of the Welsh Assembly, refuse to dismiss the possibility of an opt-out donation system is more than encouraging – it's inspiring. Often, the Welsh Assembly seems braver than its bigger brother; more adaptable to new ideas and readier to make controversial decisions, especially in healthcare. This may be because any outcry in Wales is smaller than in England – the Welsh, as a rule, aren't big on political activity (look at that turnout: a quarter of the Welsh population actively wanted a devolved parliament) – and it may be because the Assembly's jurisdiction is simply smaller, but the fact is that on a political level, healthcare in Wales looks rosy.
And in this case, it has taken some balls – ironic, since Edwina Hart (presumably) doesn't have any. She has essentially overruled the Assembly health committee's decision not to apply for the right to adopt an opt-out system in Wales. Rejecting a committee's recommendation is a statement of intent and then some: the aptly-named Hart has told politicians that a change in organ donation is going to be discussed whether they like it or not.
Personally, I can't wait. Like TV licensing chiefs, I love hearing people's excuses, sad as they are. "We have a right to keep our organs when we die." "It's wrong to take from a dead person even if it might save a life." None as yet have beaten the excuse raised by John Reid, supported by many and picked up by a writer in The Telegraph a while back (sadly, I can't find a link but rest assured it was probably Simon Heffer because the man's an idiot): "I am not giving my organs to the state." No, you're not. You're giving them to a dying person who needs them to live. Listen to yourself: surely you cannot believe what you are saying. Leave 'the state' out of it, you tit, and stop dragging politics into this simple case of life and death.
Chairman of the spurned committee, Conservative health spokesman Jonathan Morgan (boo hiss) accused Hart of ignoring "the hypothetical reasons why presumed consent could prove difficult to introduce". Hmm, not overly specific. That sounds like a pretty poor excuse to me: an excuse for an excuse, even. And the conclusion to this article – "It is possible to make a case for an opt-out system that favours the living over the dead, but it is not consent and let us not pretend that it is" – is absolute nitpicking.
People may be coming around to the obvious benefits of a system that presumes consent to donate your organs after death unless you deliberately opt out. Prospects aren't as bleak as the future for thousands of patients under the current system. Gordon Brown has given the thumbs-up to an opt-out system, and a "UK Government taskforce" – whatever that may be – is due to report on the matter in a few months. If Wales can lead the way, the rest of Britain may follow. We can only hope. Maybe in just a few years, all of Britain will be able to enjoy an opt-out organ donation system, free hospital parking and prescriptions without charge.
Then again, maybe not.
Commercial breakdown
Everybody's talking about it: Lloyds TSB is ready to take over Halifax Bank of Scotland (HBOS). Halifax is just the first stop on "the journey" Lloyds TSB keeps promising us, and we can all look forward to them picking up Nationwide, Bradford & Bingley and Alliance & Leicester at various stations nationwide (including Bradford and Leicester, presumably) on the way to oblivion.
And all the repercussions of the Halifax-Lloyds merger are being considered: job losses, market shares and even the name of the new merger (I propose Lloyds TSB: Bank of Scotland, Halifax, or LTSB: BOSH for short).
One thing people haven't thought about is the adverts. Merging the incredibly irritating "Hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh HAAAAAH" Lloyds TSB tune with the even more irritating Halifax song-and-dance adverts could be the most damaging symptom of the recession. It's bad enough that Thomas from Leeds singing "Something tells me I'm into something good" has taken on ironic quantities usually reserved for standing ovations at the Liberal Democrat party conference, without badly-drawn women with big noses elbowing him out the way and yodelling melodiously at the tops of their voices.
This Must Be Stopped.
Who You Gonna Call?
Here's an interesting one: a millionaire being chased out of his 52-room mansion by ghosts.
Obviously my heart goes out to Mr Rashid and his family, but some of the supposed supernatural activity does sound a bit...well...natural. Sounds of tapping on the wall? Voices? Mysterious figures? Ghostly presences taking the forms of their children? Is there not the slightest chance this crazy activity could be less due to Casper and his mates and more attributable to their children?
Rashid doesn't sound like he's the sharpest tool in the box. "The ghosts didn't want us to be there," he said, "and we could not fight them because we couldn't see them." I have this vision of Rashid charging around with an axe swiping at thin air. That might explain the blood stains.
Actually, yes, "unexplained blood stains on bedclothes" was another puzzle. Apparently the house dates back to the Norman period; I reckon the stains date back to a normal period. It's not much fun coming of age when you're a young girl, but I'm sure Rashid's seven-year-old daughter doesn't appreciate a national story being made out of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd been the one who told her dad it was a ghost in the first place, rather than her own body. Obviously she's a bit young to be experiencing that rite of passage at the age of seven, but they did call the blood stains "unexplained" and besides, it's never easy to tell your parents about that kind of thing – I should imagine "unexplained" isn't the half of it.
Alternatively, it's a bunch of racist landowners frightening off the rich Rashid family by dressing up as ghosts Scooby Doo-style (I heard the programme's become very politically aware these days). "Paranormal experts were unable to solve the problem." Strange, that.
My money's on an insurance claim. And so is his.
Sunday, 14 September 2008
No. 10
OK, so last week Huw Davies' Week Spot became Huw Davies' Weak Spot as I failed to post, well, anything of note. But hey, that's in the past now! So let's get back on track with a fresh look at the week that is now, uh, in the past.
I knew there was a flaw in this somewhere.
(By the way, the title 'No. 10' refers not just to the focus on Downing Street in the first article, but that this is also the 10th Week Spot post. Thanks for sticking with me through the rough patches.)
Move along, nothing to see here
Tsvangirai ready to dance with the devil
In defence of Andy Murray
One small step for reality TV; one giant leap for mankind
Move along, nothing to see here
Divisions in the Government mean it's to the bunkers again as The Sunday Telegraph proclaims 'LABOUR IN CIVIL WAR'. It'd be enough to get you worried if it wasn't for the fact that this is probably the fourth time they've declared a civil war in the Government in the last few weeks. When did it start exactly?
Anyway, rifts do seem to be rife – but leadership challengers AWOL. It seems that many Labour MPs have nothing better to do than shout for a new leader, but when it comes to suggesting one they mutter, grumble and draw cartoons of Gordon Brown with an arrow through his head.
Brown needs a good autumn and a better winter. It doesn't look as though he is going to deposed now, because no one seems ready to take his place (alternatively, this makes interesting reading). This is why the timing of the Glenrothes by-election is crucial. If Brown waits and waits, toughing it all out all the while,
rides out the storm to emerge the other side and somehow wins that by-election, he's right back on track. But if he waits and loses, he is done for. If he holds the by-election now and loses (which he almost certainly will), he might just get away with it. Is it right to lose a seat to save the PM? Sometimes a pawn must be sacrificed for a king. But then I was never any good at chess.
The point is this: no one is coming forth to lead the country, so Gordon Brown is safer than he may seem. The Labour Party is not. They are at a crossroads and they need to take one of two paths (uh, maybe more of a fork in the road, then). Either unite and resolve to force a leadership challenge or shut up, show some genuine party unity and get behind Brown.
And yes, some of this is up to Brown himself. By carrot or by stick, he needs to regain control of his party. The party needs to either let this happen, or find someone else to take control instead. This is government, for goodness' sake – the country needs a leader with his own people behind him, not behind him with a dagger at the ready.
Decisions, decisions. Someone's got to make one.
Tsvangirai ready to dance with the devil
Forget 'WORLD WAR 3 BREAKS OUT'. Forget 'McCAIN WINS AMERICAN ELECTION'. This may well be the most terrifying headline I can ever imagine.
'MORGAN TSVANGIRAI: "I WILL HAVE TO TRUST MUGABE"'
That sends a shiver down my spine. I don't pretend to understand African politics all that well, but I do know that Robert Mugabe is one of the most evil men alive – stop me when I get too emotionally involved – and that trusting him may be a risky strategy. Apologies for succumbing to Godwin's Law, but Chamberlain trusted Hitler and look where that got us. He invaded Britain, won the war and now we all speak German (wait, what?).
Sorry. I don't want to make a mockery of what is a seriously tragic situation in Zimbabwe. And to be fair, I don't think Tsvangirai wants to trust Mugabe. He just realises he may have to. But this is why the power-sharing solution isn't a solution at all: Tsvangirai's MDC will only ever be a junior partner to Mugabe's Zanu-PF, they will struggle to exert any influence over him and atrocities will continue.
But then, I suppose, what else could Tsvangirai do? Not a lot. It's still up to other nations to intervene in some way, and I worry that this new development involving a sharing of power will only delay that, while governments naïvely think they can stop worrying about this troublesome country for a while. More positively, they may be giving the new system time to work, and I suppose this has to happen – but surely, a few months should be enough to see if there is at least any movement towards change. And again, I'm not confident, because Mugabe is not some repentant sinner looking o right his wrongs. He never saw his crimes as wrongs, and sees no reason to change the status quo.
Tsvangirai told The Independent on Sunday, "When you negotiate, you ought to have faith and confidence in each other. Otherwise, there is no point in negotiating, because you are bound to fail. I am therefore giving [Mugabe] the benefit of the doubt." Except of course, in this case there WAS point in negotiating without having faith and confidence in your partner, and that's that there was no way Tsvangirai was going to win through the ballot box. Hell, he did, and he still didn't prise Mugabe from power. This is not a man to whom you give the benefit of the doubt.
I know he's been pressured into this, and that it's not ideal circumstances for him. But I just hope Tsvangirai knows what lies in store. Because mark my words: this is not the beginning of democracy in Zimbabwe. I hope and pray it is, but I'm a man of lesser faith than its new co-leader.
In defence of Andy Murray
So on Sunday 7th/Monday 8th September (depending where you live), Andy Murray played Roger Federer in the US Open final, and lost. It was a sad day for him and a predictable day for everyone. All in all, it was probably a lovely birthday present for Tim Henman, who turned 34 the day before the final: for all his proclamations of support, confidence and hope for Murray, the fact remains that it's hard to like anyone doing your job better than you, especially when that job is entertaining the British crowd as well as looking like you might win something, neither of which Henman could do.
But 'Tiger Tim' can sleep easily at night knowing that, inexplicably, he's still more popular than Andy Murray. For some reason, soon to be discussed, everyone – or at least everyone I've met – hates the talented young Scot.
And I think the reasons lie in those three words: "talented young Scot". The first two are an unhappy couple in jealous armchair sports fanatics: it's hard not to feel a bit useless when you're watching someone achieve so much more than you ever could at the same age you finished university (and I'm not just talking about myself here, although I am struggling to come to terms with being older than two of the top four tennis players in the world – Murray and Djokovic – and only four months younger than one of the others, Rafael Nadal). So Murray's young and talented, and finally, he's Scottish. And therein lies the hatred. Good old-fashioned racism.
To be fair to Murray-haters, they probably aren't racists and I doubt most hold anything against the Scottish apart from perhaps a mild xenophobia. It may be the same general mistrust that a lot of people – not least the idiot Kelvin MacKenzie – love showing towards Gordon Brown now the 'mean, Scottish, money-grabbing Chancellor' has become the 'mean, Scottish, money-grabbing Prime Minister'. It may be that English tennis fans don't like the idea of a Scotsman representing the UK ahead of anyone else. It may just be that they don't like the premise of a Monty Python sketch being ruined (do your own research for that one). It may be any of these things, but it seems that regardless of how well he does, Murray is in for a hard time from his own compatriots. Still, he's only got himself to blame. Because it can all be traced back to this comment:
"I'll be supporting anyone but England."
These words, spoken in reference to the 2006 Football World Cup, consigned him to a lifetime of antipathy in the views of many, many English people. It doesn't matter that he has no reason to support England; it doesn't matter that he was joking. It's too late now. He spat in the eyes of English sports fans, and they don't want their beams messed with, thank you very much, but by the way, you've got a mote in yours.
Obviously not everyone feels this way about Murray, or at least claim they don't. But the other arguments for disliking him do seem pretty thin. Most say it's because he's arrogant. Really? The man who told everyone not to get carried away when he first burst onto the scene? The man who readily admits to having faults in his game and confessed to not having prepared enough for the Olympics? The man who, after his recent defeat to Federer, was self-effacing, had only praise for his opponent and avoided making excuses such as a lack of time to prepare? Sorry, where's the fault there?
Is it all the emotions he pours out in a game? Yes, he does look like a bit of a tit. He's practically demonic in this photo, with the rectangular mouth and all. But why should we hate him for wearing his heart on his sleeve? He's showing a bit of fire; that he cares, and after following in the footsteps of a British no1 who looked like farting was just too much effort, he should be applauded for it.
Or is it that he does well? Deny it all you like: the British love a gallant loser. But as a sporting nation, we're starting to thrive. Look at the Olympics! Look at the Paralympics! Look at the Champions' League! It's OK, we can win things now!
So we're back to the racism card again, which wasn't an issue until he said he wouldn't support the English football team. I don't expect you to agree with me, but I think that's what it boils down to. Sorry.
One small step for reality TV; one giant leap for mankind
My next and last subject matter may surprise some of you, since a) it relates to something that happened a while ago and b) I hate reality TV. But I've heard a lot of talk about it this week, making it suitable for a 'week spot', and it means I get to include 'Gossip' as a topic tag now.
So, as I understand it, there's a once-popular programme every year on Channel 4, T4, E4, More4, EvenMore4, YetMore4, SurelyThereCanBeNoMore4, YourFour, MyFour, OurFour, TheirFour, Channel 4 + 1, E4 + 1, More 4 + 1, More 4 + 2 = 6, 4OD, 4COD, 4ADHD, ScoreFour, BoreFour, ChoreFour, PoorFour, HardcoreFour, Softcore4, IntermediatecoreFour, ForeplayFour, WhoreFour, SoreFour, LawFour, WarFour, I Can't Believe It's Not Four, I Can't Believe It's Not Four + 1 and certain frequencies of Al-Jazeera that's called Big Brother. And, as I understand it, someone called Rachel won this year (?). Finally, I am led to understand that she's incredibly boring and may have spelt the death of reality television.
Give the woman an MBE.
But yes, she won, did she? And she beat some bloke who was really nasty? Called Rex? Is that right? And Rachel winning when she's, like, sooooo boring is bad for the programme?
But good for humanity, surely. The British public chose someone nice over a complete and utter bastard (American election voters, take note). That's very encouraging. What with Jade Goody's illness turning people into monsters who think she's somehow faking cancer or if not that she deserves it – I mean, I hate Jade Goody but I wouldn't wish cancer on her...maybe that she stubbed her toe one morning – it's good to know there might still be some hope for humanity yet.
And when you're drawing that conclusion from reality TV, you know you're in trouble.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Apology
It's the age-old problem: how to get out of a regular commitment one time without everyone thinking you're rubbish.
Due to reasons that will absolutely not interest you, I simply have not had time to put together a blog this week. Not even a little one. I know: I managed it in Madeira and I managed it even when I was leaving to go to Madeira (making me late for the hotel), but this week it just can't be done. My deepest apologies.
I have thought of ways to try and do a short one and get away with it - the week in pictures, for example, or just one story - but I feel that would be lying to you, my readers. And you're all so lovely. I just couldn't do it.
So instead, I emerge from this smokescreen of cop-outs naked and embarrassed with nothing to cover my dignity. This week, you will not be able to read my opinions on the week that was.
Yes, this comes at a bad time, just after some more people have been drawn towards the blog and have been impressed by it. And yes, it's incredibly unprofessional to miss a week. But sadly, I have no option.
I hope you are not too disappointed, and I truly, truly hope you will come back next week. I promise you I will make it worth your while. Not literally, obviously, but it'll be a good one. Promise.
Much love
x

