Sunday 7 December 2014

Ed Milliband and his "lack of personality" politics


Ed milliband and Wallace
Ed Milliband and Wallace.  A better brother than David, to be fair.
Increasingly, it seems, personality is dominating politics.  Especially the world of mainstream politics.  But then, this shouldn't be surprising.  Deciding on who to vote for in elections should come down to differences in policy, differences in the ideological outlook of the party in question.  But there doesn't seem to be any difference.

Living is tough, and it's felt like this for years now.  There are no leading political figures who are coming up with an alternative. Not even the suggestion of one.  As such, it's hardly surprising that when we decide which political party to vote for that personality is where we start.

In these depressing terms Ed Milliband is currently losing amongst the leaders of the three main parties.  According to official YouGov polls he's even less popular than Nick Clegg.  That's like finding out your girlfriend is dumping you for Julien Blanc!

The Sun, along with the rest of the right wing press, enjoy making as many disparaging comments about Ed Milliband's appearance as they can.  One repeated aspect has been to compare him to Wallace.

In many ways of course this is a weak argument as Wallace appears to be far more human like in his appearance.  Also, Ed Milliband would kill to have even just an inch of Wallace's likeability.

The next obvious thing for columnists and political cartoonists to employ would be to compare anyone close to him as being like Gromit, Wallace's faithful hound.  Except for this comparison to work you would need someone, anyone, to openly ally themselves to Ed Milliband in the first place.

Instead, the bulk of the Labour movement appear to be distancing themselves from him as much as possible.  Almost like being unpopular is a disease you can get from close contact.

There are indeed many who would prefer Ed Balls to replace Ed Milliband as leader.  A bizarre concept if you are just looking at personality as he doesn't exactly exude a winning confidence.  Also, as immature as it is... he's called Balls.  I mean, come on...

Of course personality shouldn't be the issue.  I'm adding to the criticism here as well, I know that.  But the problem is, he doesn't give us anything else to go on.

Compared to all the other leaders, he doesn't say anything different.  Austerity is necessary, immigration is a problem, we all need to tighten our belts.  It's the same script that all the other leaders are reading from.

When you realise that, why not decide on who to vote for according to the colour of their tie or how good they look eating a sandwich?


Ed Milliband eating a bacon sandwich
Ed Millband eating a bacon sandwich.  Erm... that's it.

In fact, at the next election, the ballot paper should have the names of the parties represented removed and simply comprise of pictures of the different nominees eating sandwiches.  Sounds glib, but if it was actually a beauty contest at least Nigel Farage would miss out!

Only 4 years ago, it actually looked different.  In the Labour Party leadership election we had various options.  The favourite choice was David Milliband, who represented a continuation of Blairite politics.  Nice suit, nice smile, business as usual.  Privatisation and genocide, hand in hand, just like his old boss.

On the left was Diane Abbott.  Essentially there for the sake of it, but that being no bad thing.  If she could help drag the argument to the left, all the better.  Any socialist with a vote knew she had no chance, but was glad she was there.

Then came Ed Milliband.  Not a left winger, nor had he really played a prominent role previously.  But he stood out.

At every election when a party suffers a set back prominent members interviewed speak of the need to "listen to the voters, and learn from our mistakes".  The mistakes are never actually openly declared, and as such nothing is learnt and the voters are ignored.

However, during the Labour Party leadership Ed Milliband said that the Labour party had made a number of mistakes, such as the Iraq War.  Wow!

Yes, it's the bleeding obvious, but from a candidate that actually stood a chance of winning, this was amazing.  Faced with the prospect that maybe real change could happen within the Labour Party, it is hardly surprising that ordinary members and Trade Union members (who also had the right to vote in the election if their Union was affiliated to the Labour Party) flocked to him.

Now, 4 years later, it of course turned out to be a lot of smoke.  Now he sticks to the script, and has nothing to say for himself.  Tired, boring and pointless.  His comparison to an animated work of fiction is by far the most interesting aspect of his existence.

We deserve better than this.  At the next election I, along with many others, will vote for Labour.  We always do, and we have to hold our noses as we do it, but we know that even now there is a difference between Labour and the Tories.  Paper thin though it may be.


Trade Union demonstration
Working people - the alternative to Dave, Nick and Ed

If there is anything to learn from mainstream politics as it now stands it's that if nothing else, the solution will not come from elections.  The system itself is utterly corrupt, and the parties available only want to slightly tweak it.

It needs changing.  Utterly and fundamentally.  Grass roots campaigning, active Trade Union membership, there are other alternative forms of democracy.  It's not enough just to get angry, but it's a start.  If we accept it the way it is, we leave all the big decisions to whoever has received the most effective media training in how to eat their dinner.

Saturday 8 November 2014

Student life, then and now

This week I had an article published online with Now Then Magazine, an arts, culture and politics magazine in Manchester.  In this article I look at the impact of the student population returning to the city, and reflect on how my experience coming to the city in 2001 would compare to today.  Enjoy!

http://nowthenmagazine.com/manchester/issue-13/student-life/

Friday 31 October 2014

What exactly is militant Liberalism?

The militants lair

Comedian Andrew Lawrence caused something of a minor shit-storm in comedy circles last week by posting on Facebook criticism of comedians appearing on BBC programs such as Mock the Week.  The general gist was that there are a lot of comedians making cheap jokes about UKIP, and he blames a liberal elite within the corporation, and the laziness of comics.

What could have been a contribution to a debate, however incorrect, was somewhat mired with statements bemoaning

"...moronic, liberal back-slapping on panel shows like Mock The Week where aging, balding, fat men, ethnic comedians and women-posing-as-comedians, sit congratulating themselves on how enlightened they are about the fact that UKIP are ridiculous and pathetic."

I think the part that particularly annoyed many was the concept of "women-posing-as-comedians."  It feels almost like he is imagining a producer with a need to fill quotas desperately searching for any woman he can find.  Eventually the char lady has powder applied and, bewildered and blinking under the studio lights, is sat next to Hugh Dennis and told not to break anything.

Contained within the entire statement are a number of breath-taking examples of foetid nonsense.  However, I don't intend on writing specifically in response to Andrew Lawrence, as plenty have already taken up that challenge.

What I will do though is pick up on one particular gem from it all.  He accuses the BBC of "deeply ingrained militant Liberal politics."

What exactly are militant Liberal politics?


The campaign against library closures steps up a notch
For a start I can't imagine an armed struggle being waged by a political faction in the name of liberalism.

A sniper assassinating government advisers on drug policies in a bid to further the aim of de-criminalising marajuana; "Outrage" kidnapping The Queen and forcing her to marry a Lesbian; a "No to page 3" activist pretending to go in for a topless photo shoot only to reveal under her blouse a bomb vest, taking out half of Fleet St.

Doesn't seem too likely does it?

Complaints about the BBC being too Liberal are not uncommon.  We hear it all the time from the likes of the Sun and other right-wing newspapers.  But then, complaining about bias of the corporation against a political position is not just the reserve of the right.

At the height of the anti-war movement against the invasion of Iraq we were always amazed at how you could get so little coverage of demonstrations, despite 10,000's people taking to the streets.  Thousands marching on any subject should surely be newsworthy?

When Israel stepped up it's murderous campaign against Palestinians, activists were again complaining about a pro-Israel bias.  But at the same time Zionists and other supporters of Israel were complaining that it instead had a pro-Palestinian bias!

What that suggests is that while it may not be perfect, and will always make mistakes, maybe the BBC is pretty unbiased after all.

Anyway, the suggestion that UKIP could complain about bias against them from the BBC is ridiculous.  Can anyone remember an episode of Question Time that didn't feature one of their members on the panel?  Whenever immigration is mentioned in any capacity in the news, there always appears to be a UKIP spokesperson on hand.

There is every possibility you may be reading that last bit of criticism of UKIP thinking "but you would say that, you're a Liberal"  To which I would say "get stuffed, I'm not a Liberal!  I'm a Socialist!!"


You can't argue with facts
A liberal wants to gently tweak the already existing Status Quo, where-as I want to change the entire system because it's the system that's at fault.  Agree with me or not but you would have to admit, that's militant!

A few comedians on Mock the Week suggesting Nigel Farage looks like a muppet?  No, that's not militant.  I understand in that context why supporters of right wing parties might complain about their treatment.

I mean, thank God no-one ever mentions Ed Miliband's appearance... oh, wait...


Friday 24 October 2014

Like a hole in the head

Some teeth, earlier

Last week I went to the dentists for the first time in over 10 years.  Needless to say, I was nervous.

Nerves are not the reason I hadn't been for so long by the way.  I'm not generally an anxious patient, particularly when it comes to the dentist.  I used to go regularly when I was a kid right through my time at Uni, and every time I went I was told how good my teeth were and never received any treatment.

That was the problem.  I haven't gone in so long because each time I did go, before I even had time to get comfy in the chair I was being sent on my way with oral praise ringing in my ears (by oral I don't mean spoken, although it was, I mean it was about... never mind... ).

This meant going to the dentist was nothing to fear, so it wasn't a big deal.  As such, as an adult, I didn't bother going.  I never even registered with a dentist all the time I've lived up north.

At the same time though, lets not pretend that my sheer laziness hasn't played a role in this as well.  There are many very important things in my life that don't get done because I can't be arsed.  If I got bitten by a Black Widow spider in my living room and the serum was in the fridge, I'd still wait until the end of Coronation St to go and get it.  And I don't even like Coronation St.

Clearly, as a child, my Mother took the responsibility.  As an adult, that passed to, unfortunately, me.  Have you met me?

However, I now live with Sally.  Regular readers will know she is the nice lady who makes me coffee in the morning, puts morale boosting notes in my lunch (as in, in the bag, not as a sandwich filling), and even recently taught me how to ride a bike (as detailed here).


You would have thought Jesus' CV would mean he could
get a better job than a dental assistant, but there you go

She also decided that my health was actually important.  Who knew?

And yes, unusually for me, I was a bit scared.  It had been that long, who knows what was wrong with my teeth.  I hadn't been in any pain at all, but still, what would he find?  Perhaps my molars were packed with Ebola.

But still, I did go.  The staff were all very pleasant and the experience was fine.  Until the end when he explained I needed a filling.  After a decade of wilful dental absenteeism, I suppose I got off lightly.  All the same, this was my first one ever.

So this morning I've been back and had it done.  My favourite bit was when he said "I'll be doing some drilling, do you want injections for anaesthetic?"  WHO WOULD SAY NO??

I know some people are afraid of needles but he was going to drill in to my head, and I had the choice of whether to just go ahead and feel it all OR NOT!

Needless to say I said yes, and very bloody quickly too.  As such I felt nothing apart from the vibration of various things in my mouth (and no, I've never said that in any other context before).

It all took under half an hour in total and cost £32.  I only mention that for any American readers.  Apparently, they would be looking at $250+.  Well, anything less would be COMMUNISM wouldn't it?


Filling done, the dentist said that otherwise I had excellent teeth.  Jolly good, I can leave it another 10 years then, right?

Friday 17 October 2014

Driven to distraction

A Car

In a perfect world I wouldn't need a car.  Public transportation would get me wherever I needed, and at an affordable cost.  But that’s simply not the case.

I briefly had to commute from Bolton, where I lived at the time, in to Manchester where I worked.  It was hard to understand why the train system could claim to be short of money travelling at these peak times.

Stuffed in to carriages like victims escaping an atrocity (and Bolton isn't really that bad!), with guards at the entrance to the station to ensure nobody got through without a ticket.  They couldn't complain about the lack of numbers.

What was more annoying was that I was paying significantly more for a ticket than I would have done for fuel.  Yes, in my car I would have spent a lot of time queuing in traffic, but on the train I was given an experience that makes you feel jealous of veal.  When you add on the fact that the car took me door to door whilst with the train I had to also walk 20 minutes as part of my commute in all weathers, the ticket price was definitely not representing value for money.

Aside from the commute to work, the real reason I chose to drive a number of years ago was for comedy.  Any kind of career in stand up is virtually impossible without a car now.  There are a minority of pro acts who don’t drive, but these are pretty much all people who got established a number of years ago when the circuit was somewhat smaller to say the least.
 
Another car

Without a doubt though, one of the most stress making aspects of my career is to do with cars.  Fuel costs, repairs, the lot.  There’s nothing like driving along without a care in the world only for the oil light to come on followed by the car uncontrollably going up to maximum revs whilst huge clouds of smoke pour out of your exhaust pipe.

That example was at the end of last year and meant my turbo needed replacing at a cost of over £400!  Sometimes the costs can rack up that much that I feel that my existence is solely to earn money to continually fuel and maintain a car.

I’ve not had a lot of luck with cars.  I managed to write off the first car I owned for a start.  Whilst parking.  In my own car park!

Sounds stupid, and it was.  I just whizzed in too quick like the fearless boy racer moron I was.  Realising I was going too fast I went to slam on my brakes but my foot slipped on to the accelerator.  I was only to achieve a few feet of acceleration before hitting a wall, but that was enough to crumple up my bonnet.

As horrible as it was, I can’t really complain.  Friends had some sympathy at first thinking it was a low level perimeter wall I hadn't seen.  When they found out it was in fact a three story block of flats, their sympathy evaporated.  Needless to say, I couldn't really miss it.

If I learnt one lesson from that, aside from the obvious one about avoiding stationary... buildings, it was that if no-one else is involved, DO NOT claim on the insurance.

The car I wrote off was an old Punto, and after taking in to account my excess the insurance company paid out just £500.  Needless to say, they’ve taken many more times that amount of money from me over the years through increased premiums.  At its worst, I had pay an annual premium of £1600!

Over the last 5 years I’ve managed to stay clear of accidents, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that meant I could stay trouble free when it came to cars.  No, instead, the cars themselves would cause their own problems.

I had three Vauxhall’s in a row that all had some weird intermittent fault wrong with them.  Intermittent means that when the fault occurs you can’t drive the damn thing, but when a mechanic comes to look at it they can’t find a problem.  So there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.
Yet another... oh no, wait, that's an owl on a skateboard

Call me old fashioned, but I just want a car that works.  Simple.

So I made the leap, and spent real money on a car.  Part exchanged my pointless car in return, and drove off a Skoda Fabia that’s only three years old.  On paper, this should mean I have a dependable car that won’t cause me trouble but what it also means is that if this one causes me grief I am significantly out of pocket.


Fingers crossed it does work, otherwise I’m back on the trains again!

Friday 10 October 2014

My, my, isn't everything sh*t?

Ever wondered what a shaved Muppet would look like?

Isn't life just grand at the moment?

The Scottish population voted no in the referendum, Ebola has taken countless lives, IS have chopped off a charity workers head and UKIP have their first MP.  Oh, and to top it all off I've had a cold.  Who doesn't love the feeling of waking each morning like a fairy has sand-papered the back of your throat and stuffed your sinuses with wax?

Oh no, wait... that feeling is horrible!  This fever must be going to my head.

International news and politics can seem troublesome at the best of times but gosh, doesn't it all just feel particularly crappy right now?  I had very much nailed my colours to the mast in favour of a Yes vote in the Scottish referendum for a start (as detailed in this POST).

Unfortunately, I had also predicted that the No campaign would win.  Why?  Because despite the campaign being utterly negative, it was the easier thing to do.  The mass of people are not arseholes on purpose, they just go for what they see as the most balanced option.

People want to be balanced.  They want to be fair.  They want to exist in the middle ground, and hate anything they consider to be "extremism".  Unfortunately the centre ground is not a nice place, and the agenda set is not of our making as much as we think it is.

The morning after the referendum result I put on breakfast television to see Nigel Farage.  That's enough to ruin anyone's Corn Flakes.  He was saying, and has been joined by quite a chorus of right wingers since, that now we had the debate around Scottish independence, it was now time for the debate around English independence.

Yes Scotland, you had forgotten about UKIP hadn't you?  They hadn't been mentioned for a few weeks in the hope it would slip your memory that THIS is what being in the Union entails, but tough, they do exist!

Urgh...

What's worse, with the help of the media bosses, they are dragging the centre ground in their direction.  Immigration really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things for the financial fortunes of this country and it's population, but people think it does, and that's enough.

The Labour party should of course be arguing against UKIP's lies, but the truth is that it's the minority who think they sit in the centre that decide elections.  It's not the richest voters or the poorest voters that ultimately effect elections (although the richest always come out on top in this system anyway).  It's the swing voters.  In America it was Ohio, in Britain Tony Blair dubbed this voter "Lexus Man".

Unfortunately, Lexus Man is a dick.

Sure, he's had to tighten his belt as economic pressures have taken hold.  But where-as the poorest are having their benefits cut, being robbed through the bedroom tax, and having to rely on food banks, Lexus man is having to reconsider his holiday plans this year.

The poorest know the Tories are bastards, but Lexus Man swallows everything he reads in the paper and thinks immigrants are to blame.  Added to that he is genuinely scared about Islamic "extremism", so this only furthers his distrust of "others".

Unfortunately, in the current system, Labour know they have to rely on his vote.  That's why they talk tough on immigration.

UKIP will take Labour votes, but no-where near as many as people think.  In the Middleton and Heywood by-election the UKIP vote increased by 36%, placing them second and within just 600+ votes of Labour, who won.  However, the Labour vote actually went up by 1%.

The Tories votes went down by 15%, and the Lib Dems 18%.  This is where the UKIP vote came from.  However, Labour are hoping to win over Lib Dem voters in the next general election.  If a large portion of that vote goes to UKIP, they might well struggle.

But, and this is very important, whenever the main political parties try to "out-UKIP" UKIP, it back-fires.  You cannot simply steal their clothing.  By arguing their agenda, you push their agenda, and it is only UKIP who ultimately win.

Not a real worker, or British - an Irish actor.  Oops.

Of course there will be working class voters who will vote UKIP.  But the most significant part of the traditional Labour vote is being torn apart by the Tories austerity measures.  Don't forget, UKIP are basically the party that look at the Tories and think that they are "too soft"!  Just five minutes reading up on their plans for the NHS is enough to give even the most hardy horror movie fan the shivers.

If Labour want to succeed perhaps they could try displaying principles.  The kind of principles that I know the mass bulk of their membership have.  Perhaps if they argue against the bigoted nonsense of UKIP they can drag the agenda back leftwards, towards the centre again.  Perhaps then Lexus Man might realise that UKIP are just a bunch of "fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists".

After all, Lexus Man hates extremism, doesn't he?

Wednesday 17 September 2014

Scotland - show us how it's done!

A Nation decides

If there's one thing I like to be, it's unique.  Yes - cutting edge. niche.  Yep, that's me.  So here's a blog on the Scottish referendum...

Ok, ok, so this is going to be just one more chirrup emitting from a spring meadow full of rutting Crickets.  I realise that.  However, this is also a subject I feel passionately about.  I may be English born and bred, but I very strongly believe that Scotland should vote for independence.

Am I alone in taking this position?  Hardly.  But there do seem to be a lot of English people I know (can't move for 'em!) that seem to be taking the existence of the referendum as a personal slur.  In a "how dare they not want to be British like me.  What's wrong with me?"

First of all, have you seen our government?  The fear we seem to have about our identity that makes us paranoid that the Scottish don't want to be our friends any more is displayed in our voting.  It's led by fear all the way.

We voted the Tories in to power, despite them only representing the "1%".  Very much the nasty party they are slashing benefits and privatising off our public services.  In opposition is Labour, a party created by the workers, who only continue to vote for them because the alternative is the Tories.  And the party of opposition?  UKIP.  The definitive party of fear itself.

Fear has also griped the referendum in Scotland, perpetuated by the NO campaign.  Their arguments for Scotland to remain in the union is mostly centred around what currency could be used, which at it's root is essentially going "do you want the Euro??"

Talk of how much money Scotland gets in subsidies is also an issue.  It's true that the Barnett Formula (look it up if you want your head scrambled) is unfairly in Scotland's favour over other countries in the UK.  However, the simple fact is that at current rates, oil and gas revenues which would be in Scotland's hands mean that they would be better off financially per head of population compared to staying as part of the UK.


This is, genuinely, the best people they've got.

Not all arguments for the NO campaign are as base as this.  I heard a Scottish University Professor on Radio 4 this afternoon explaining that he would be voting to stay as part of the Union because he felt he had as much in common with people in England and Wales as he did with people in Scotland.

This is fair enough.  An intelligent person explaining simply that he doesn't believe in Nationalism.  I feel exactly the same, but then I also feel the same connection with working people in France, America, India... basically the world over.

The truth is, whilst it may be the motivation for some, this vote is too important to just be about national identity or receiving a slight increase in public spending.

The reason the Scottish should vote for independence is that the system they would have would be so much better.  The system of Proportional Representation is more democratic for a start.  But better than that, the Tories are only the third party, it is dominated by the SNP (who are a social democratic party) and Scottish Labour.

Since devolution, the Labour party in Scotland have been much more left wing than in the rest of Britain precisely because their opposition has been the SNP rather than the Tories.  What powers they have had has been put to much better use than what the parties in the rest of the UK have managed to do.

The world we live in means this couldn't be a perfect system, but it could be so much better.  An alternative to the slash and burn austerity that the Tories favour so much.  It's not without merit that Alex Salmond suggests that the NHS would be safer in an independent Scotland than left to the UK government.

I fear that the NO campaign will win because undecided voters when faced with a choice will go with what seems like the safer, more conservative option.  But my God I hope they make the strong choice.

Vote for independence and show us in the rest of the UK what can be done in a world where the Tories are barely relevant.  This will only happen if they choose to reject the politics of fear.  Hopefully, we might be able to follow their example and do the same.


YES!!!

Friday 5 September 2014

"You could actually hear the snap..."

My accident as I remember it
At the time of writing I currently have a good friend waiting in hospital to get pins removed from her ankle which she broke a while ago, which reminds me of the time I broke my leg and had my last stay in hospital.

For my friend it was during a practice session with her Roller Derby team.  If you've not seen roller derby it is a fiercely competitive roller skating team sport, which at no time have I ever jokingly referred to as "Lesbians on casters".

The accident, on all accounts, happened because a team member performing an action sloppily during the practice, causing her to fall awkwardly.  There is a similarity in my tale in that my accident happened whilst playing football, but dissimilar in that it was entirely my fault.

I should point out that this was five-a-side, not a proper team set-up.  No football team would have me.  In fact when I was young and had hair (yes, that was a very, very long time ago), I was referred to as "David Beckham's evil twin", in that I had bleached blond hair in a centre parting, but had zero ability on the ball.  Passing, dribbling, shooting, I was terrible at them all.

I'm such the opposite to David Beckham in fact that my girlfriend can actually sing.  That's how dissimilar we are!

During play, after being let out of goal momentarily (my natural position due to my flair of taking up space) I went in to a tackle.  Standing on the ball I tripped over and my foot was stuck planted in a standing position whilst my entire weight sent my body over.

You could actually hear the snap.  Closely followed by the sucking of air through the teeth of the other players and sounds which were a mixture of sympathy and nausea.

One of my friends said "don't worry, it's probably just a strain."  Looking down my leg was at a right angle starting just above my ankle.  Needless to say, he wasn't a trained medic.

999 was called, and I was told an ambulance was on it's way.  Now, I can't remember exactly how long it took, but it was a while.  Yes, I was in pain, but I was going to live so I wasn't a  priority. 

It didn't help with the wait in that the five-a-side court was in Moss Side.  Every time we heard a siren we thought it was for me, but no, that's just the soundtrack to the area.  In fact the wait was that long that the guys who had booked the court after us, after initially showing sympathy for my cause, decided to just play round me.

Eventually of course an ambulance did come to scoop me off the floor, and gas and air were administered.  This is probably the only time in my life that I recall experiencing a Hollywood film style drug experience.

It killed the pain which was lovely, but whenever I talked my voice in my head sounded like it was intensely deep.  I kept asking the paramedics if my voice sounded weird, and they kept saying no, in a tone that suggested they thought I was weird.

Talking of drug experiences I was given morphine in the hospital.  Now, many people I know think this was great, but all I remember was feeling a bit fuzzy, not having the attention span to read, and not having a shit for a week.  Is this what powered the counter-culture in the 1960's, freedom from defecating??

In hospital, doped up
I stayed in hospital for 6 days whilst I had an operation to put a nail through my tibia, which is the larger of the two bones going from your knee to your ankle.

The support I received was very welcome.  Friends came to visit me bringing DVDs, books and sweets, and my Mum took time off work especially to come up and look after me.

Staying at my flat whilst I remained in hospital she inevitably cleaned every inch of the place.  Visiting one day she explained that she'd sorted through all my unpacked boxes of CDs and DVDs and did note that she'd found one or two "adult" videos, but that's fine because I'm an adult now.

This is the sort of news that makes your spine itch from embarrassment, so I should be thankful that I was doped up at the time.

Once out of hospital my Mum gave me a guided tour of my own home to explain where everything was now.  This included the set of shelves in my room (note - before I went in hospital, I didn't own a set of shelves).  On display were all my books, CDs and DVDs, all neat, tidy and in correct order.

I was somewhat surprised to notice on one DVD spine what looked like the act of fellatio.  I shouldn't have been, of course, because that's exactly what it was.  That's right, my Mum had put my porn collection out with the rest of the videos.

Whilst intensely embarrassing, at least I could appreciate the humour that my anal DVDs were now in alphabetical order.  Humour is the best medicine, I suppose.

Friday 29 August 2014

Rotherham, and why we shouldn't listen to the racists.


So what next for this stand-up comedians lighted hearted blog posts?  A post about the Rotherham recent child abuse scandal?  Well, that is bound to be a wheeze.  Ho, ho, ho, strap in comedy lovers...

Well, maybe not.  Yes, I am covering that subject, but I must admit that a report uncovering the sexual exploitation and abuse of over 1400 children in Rotheram isn't exactly a giggle fest.  Still, as with any major news story, there are plenty of contradictions at play.

First was watching the BBC news two mornings ago which included an interview with the group "Parents Against Child Sexual Exploitation".  It twisted my mind as to why such a group existed.  After all, who would be against that group?

The other issue is the groups name.  Why "parents" against child sexual exploitation and not just "people"?  I don't have children myself, but does that mean they think I would be in some way neutral on the issue?  Would I be expected to complain to the BBC, demanding to know why they hadn't invited on a pro-paedophile spokesperson to provide balance?  No, I will be happily maintaining my license fee payments for the foreseeable future.

Of course a big issue with this case is the impact of race and racism, as the perpetrators here were mostly men from a Pakistani background.  With the ongoing rumblings of Investigation Yewtree turning up historical abuse cases involving mostly white male celebrities, you might be fooled in to thinking that overall race isn't really a factor.  But that's not going to hold the right wing press back.

Reading The Sun on Thursday, unsurprisingly, warmed my urine to a rolling boil.  A particular highlight being columnist Trevor Kavanagh's take on the issue, where he blames:

'mostly white, mostly Labour politicians and police... (who) represent a political class, backed by the BBC, who waved in millions of migrants during 13 years of Labour government under the discredited flag of multiculturalism.  Their avowed objective was to change the face of Britain which they deemed to be "too white"'

Of course!!  How stupid of me not to realise that the problem all along was caused by Labour, the BBC and multiculturalism!  Case solved, thanks Trev.

Aside from rantings by columnists such as Kavangh, the general argument is that the police in Rotherham, backed by Labour, didn't investigate the claims out of a fear of being seen as racist.  It would be easy to write off this argument as barking mad, because it is.  For a start, the police not wanting to be racist???  My, my, how times change.

Scarily though, you cannot just ignore this argument, because it is one that is seated well and truly in the mainstream.  The Sun are not alone in turning this horrific story about child abuse in to one for their own agenda attacking Labour and multiculturalism.

In reality, the real problem in this case is precisely the same problem as there was in the case against Jimmy Saville.  Victims and their families were blamed for the abuse, and ignored.

£60k salary v. honour.  Salary wins!
Police in Rotherham ignored the complaints because they saw the girls as complicit in their own abuse.  "If you hang around with that kind of crowd, what do you expect to happen", was their position.  In reality, where girls in any way "chose" to spend time with their abusers, that was as a result of grooming.  That's how it works, and that is why there is an age of consent.  They are children, not consenting adults, and they need protecting.

Perhaps there is some cultural aspect as to why a minority of Pakistani men thought it was acceptable to abuse young girls (and not exclusively white girls either, like the media often suggests).  But then, there is a cultural explanation as to why older white celebrities thought it was ok to do exactly the same.

As much as I mocked the name of "Parents Against Child Sexual Exploitation" before, one thing you can say is that they don't make any issue of race.  They, and anyone who is genuinely concerned with helping put a stop to child abuse in this way, say that the real issue is to put a stop to victim blaming, and for the police to take complaints seriously.

Friday 22 August 2014

The Edinburgh Festival Experience

6am at the Edinburgh festival
In my opinion Edinburgh is one of the most beautiful cities in the UK.  I say the UK, that could well change with the referendum in September of course.  Can the Scottish really turn down the chance to never have Tories rule them again?  I know I couldn't.

Part of the Union or not it’s a city that drips with beautiful architecture and culture.  But it’s also a challenge.  I have never visited somewhere before where you could walk for hours and always appear to be going uphill.  I'm not used to following directions to get to a destination and find that a left turn is impossible because the road I want is actually underneath the road I am on.  It is like Edinburgh was designed by two people, then they just stuck one map on top of the other and got on with it.

But in other ways Edinburgh really helps pack in the experience for you.  Have you ever been somewhere and wondered what it would look like at other times of the year, what impact the other seasons would have on the landscape?  Well that’s not a problem with Edinburgh because you will get the weather of every single season in just one day!

Being a child #1 - Haggis, neeps and titties
All this is exacerbated during the Fringe, as you have to traipse around the venues all day throughout the City centre (and as far as Leith and Haymarket to see shows by people conned in to thinking they had been booked in to a workable venue).  Outside weather ranging from downpours to heat waves just minutes apart, then into rooms which are stuffy and airless.  Make no mistake, during the biggest arts festival in the world, condensation is King.

The rooms for the shows themselves rarely help.  There are a number of spaces I have seen shows that are considered great rooms, but outside of Edinburgh the thought of putting on a show in these places would be considered mad.

Last year I did a solo stand up show for a week at 1am on the top deck of a bus.  No, really.  Only in Edinburgh would they spray paint a bus, park it in a courtyard, and call it a venue.  But, and this is the kicker, as Edinburgh festival venues go, this was pretty good!  Even at that stupid time I managed to fill it each night.  Yes, my face on posters can fill buses – now there’s an odd boast!

Flyering for your own solo show at midnight can be a lonely experience, I don’t think anyone would be surprised to hear.  Thankfully for me I have the antidote in that each time I am in Edinburgh I am performing as part of ComedySportz, a competitive improvised comedy show, with an entire troupe of my closest friends.  Unlike with stand up, here I am not on my own, and in fact have a number of people around me who have my back.  It does make all the difference.

With ComedySportz in a lovely Edinburgh dungeon
This year I only came up for a few days with these guys, and whilst performing with ComedySportz I was otherwise not performing, but instead watching shows.  My girlfriend Sally came with me so I could attempt the tourist experience.  That has been a learning experience in itself.  Mostly in that I now know our comedy tastes are more divergent than I first thought, but that where they match, they match very well indeed.

Funz and Gamez with Phil Ellis and friends and the improvised musical Baby Wants Candy had me in absolute stitches, whilst Sally instead looked rather bemused.  But that’s fine.

Following the sad passing of Robin Williams I have spent time looking up clips of his stand up and, apart from a few exceptions, I have to admit I just don’t get it.  But many of my peers and comedians who I respect very much hold him up as a seminal genius.  Not enjoying his stuff personally does not take away from the impact and importance of this man, and my ability to appreciate what he did.  Oft repeated but entirely true, comedy is indeed subjective.

Whilst certain comedy shows didn't hit home for Sally as much as for me, we did both love Kerry Godliman’s Face Time, so that was a trend bucking relief.
Being a child #2 - yes, it was mostly whiskey
We also had a wonderful archetypal Fringe experience with the short play Post-it – Notes on a Marriage, by being the only two people in the audience.  A touching play about the fragility of loving relationships, this was a unique experience.  A significant credit of course to the actors for their solid performance in these unusual circumstances, especially with taking time to shake our hands immediately after their bow.

Sore feet, shabby digs, wet clothes and endless flyering.  The Edinburgh festival can be punishing but despite all that, like the City itself, it has such a beauty and appeal that as a performer is hard to resist.

Comedians are a bizarre and rare breed.  Whether the manic energy of Robin Williams, Phil Ellis arm wrestling an 8 year old, Mary Poppins getting Ebola (thanks to the audience suggestion the night I saw Baby Wants Candy), or being willing to perform an hour of solo stand up at 1am on a bus it’s fair to say that, with a genuine reverence for the term, you don’t have to be mad to work here, but it probably does help.

Friday 15 August 2014

Getting in the saddle

The mad bastards

It’s an usual taboo, but one I must confess to.  I have managed to get in to my 30s without being able to ride a bike.

Apart from being toilet trained and learning how to walk, there are few expectations of an adult more universal than being able to ride a bike.  Even if you don’t have one it is expected that you could ride one if you choose.  After all, “you never forget”.

Of course, I did try to learn, and the important thing is that I was able to swerve to avoid the car, but my muscle memory involved in braking wasn’t quite there yet, so I hit a curb and flew over the handle bars.  One broken arm later and I gave up the idea of ever learning to ride a bike.

This is a concept I have been perfectly happy with, especially when in my twenties I learnt how to drive.  The car is a wonderful concept.  Unlike a bike it has a roof, a radio, and heating.  Added to that it is also entirely impossible to fall off the bloody thing!

However, times change.  I started a relationship at the end of last year with a wonderful woman who decides she wants the best for me.  Turns out, that includes getting me to ride a bike.  Despite my protestations, she was determined that she would teach me.

She had me riding up and down her street as she held my seat for balance.  An image immediately recognisable to all parents, made absurd by the fact that I’m not a child but instead a 6 foot tall man, with a bald head and a beard.  To add to the absurdity, I was learning using her bike, which is only a 16 inch frame.  The only way I could look more physically comical would have been by wearing clown shoes.  In this scenario she looked more like my carer than my girlfriend.

As it should be

And yet, with plenty of patience, she manages to get me cycling.  The thought of cycling on roads still worries me though.  Parks and pathways near her home have only the danger of social embarrassment.  Roads, with 4x4s, BMWs, and other assorted wankers present the very real threat of death!

My fear is in no way abated knowing that the only thing I have to warn drivers and other road users of any impending peril on my behalf is a tiny bell.  The sound it emits is less likely to make people think danger is afoot than to think their microwave meal is ready.  I’m thinking my head is about to be split open like a brick dropped on a cantaloupe melon from 20 foot, whilst around me people think their chicken Korma is ready.

But Sally finds a solution to this, by booking us in to the Manchester Sky Ride.  At this event certain road are closed off to provide a 12.5km route through the city centre just for cyclists.  Free from the worry of cars I am able to cycle along at my own pace with Sally alongside me through the city centre itself.

Passing The Etihad stadium (AKA the council house), Piccadilly station and the Town Hall I gain in confidence monumentally and start to really feel comfortable with my new bike, purchased merely days before the event.  It was a signal of commitment on my behalf to buy this bike, and one that has been justified because now, with a huge dollop of help from my better half, I now feel that I can say yes, of course I can ride a bike.

Ready for the Sky Ride