Friday, August 29, 2008

Maybe

I'm not all that fond of Obama, I don't think he's going to be the change we're waiting for and I do not believe it is time for bipartisanship with people who are only a couple of steps short of fascism--if even that far from it, but he
does good speech.

Obama is no progressive, but he's as good as I think you are going to get elected in the States. He or Hillary are about as left as it goes. The corporations and their media wouldn't permit a real progressive to get there.

But when--and I do hope it's when--he's elected, it will say something about America. I hope that it will be the start of America's leaving a Dark Age, the start of its progression to a world I believe is possible, a world in which we genuinely are free.

I have that dream too, and more. I dream that we fulfil ourselves, that we put aside bitterness and anger, and commit our lives to each other, in community, to make a world that is wonderful to live in.

That dream is why I am a progressive, a liberal, a socialist, all those dirty words in the American political vocabulary, and I'm not ashamed to say that I am. I have a bleeding heart. And my heart is moved that America may now elect a black leader. It doesn't empty the jails of blacks; it doesn't bring equality; it doesn't lessen America's greed, its hatred of other cultures and places, its dark heart. But it says maybe...

Just maybe.

I hope that you will not let us down. We want to believe in America. We want to believe that we are better--and you, as the nation that leads our polity, are better; that the bin Ladens are wrong, that we are progressing, rising from the dark, slowly, but surely, to a world of light.

No excuses this time. No giving into fear, unwarranted and unreal. Even if you cannot love Obama--and I cannot and would not in your shoes--you cannot bear four more years of the cryptofascists who have lied to you and cheated you for so long. You cannot bear it; neither can we. Say no to McCain. Eight is enough. The trillions of wasted dollars and hundreds of thousands of wasted lives are enough. Let's fight terrorism by proving them wrong, not making it clear that they are right. Let's at least make a small deposit in the bank of justice. Let that small man McCain, that tiny, ugly weasel and the coldhearted weasels he serves, let them watch as we elect a black man to be the American president, and let's keep making that march ahead.

Maybe

I'm not all that fond of Obama, I don't think he's going to be the change we're waiting for and I do not believe it is time for bipartisanship with people who are only a couple of steps short of fascism--if even that far from it, but by fuck he
does good speech.

Obama is no progressive, but he's as good as I think you are going to get elected in the States. He or Hillary are about as left as it goes. The corporations and their media wouldn't permit a real progressive to get there.

But when--and I do hope it's when--he's elected, it will say something about America. I hope that it will be the start of America's leaving a Dark Age, the start of its progression to a world I believe is possible, a world in which we genuinely are free.

I have that dream too, and more. I dream that we fulfil ourselves, that we put aside bitterness and anger, and commit our lives to each other, in community, to make a world that is wonderful to live in.

That dream is why I am a progressive, a liberal, a socialist, all those dirty words in the American political vocabulary, and I'm not ashamed to say that I am. I have a bleeding heart. And my heart is moved that America may now elect a black leader. It doesn't empty the jails of blacks; it doesn't bring equality; it doesn't lessen America's greed, its hatred of other cultures and places, its dark heart. But it says maybe...

Just maybe.

I hope that you will not let us down. We want to believe in America. We want to believe that we are better--and you, as the nation that leads our polity, are better; that the bin Ladens are wrong, that we are progressing, rising from the dark, slowly, but surely, to a world of light.

No excuses this time. No giving into fear, unwarranted and unreal. Even if you cannot love Obama--and I cannot and would not in your shoes--you cannot bear four more years of the cryptofascists who have lied to you and cheated you for so long. You cannot bear it; neither can we. Say no to McCain. Eight is enough. The trillions of wasted dollars and hundreds of thousands of wasted lives are enough. Let's fight terrorism by proving them wrong, not making it clear that they are right. Let's at least make a small deposit in the bank of justice. Let that small man McCain, that tiny, ugly weasel and the shithearted weasels he serves, let them watch as we elect a black man to be the American president, and let's keep making that march ahead.

Please pick Joe

"One of the favourites for the vice-presidential slot is Mitt Romney, the Mormon former governor of Massachusetts. Tim Pawlenty, the youthful governor of Minnesota, has been mentioned as well.Joe Lieberman, Al Gore's running mate in 2000 but now firmly with McCain, is also a possibility. But McCain risks triggering a rebellion from conservative Republicans if he chooses Lieberman, who supports abortion rights, long the litmus test for Republicans."

Please please please please please make it Lieberman. Or Mittens. But please please please Lieberman. He would lose so so so much.

The Dems have done their best to throw this away, but picking Lieberman would be suicide for the Repugs. Much of the far right hates McCain and sees him as a RINO. Picking a neocon might seem like a good idea, but Lieberman just reinforces the jingoism, which McCain can't be faulted on, and undermines the social conservatism, which McCain has been pretending to like.

Mittens is batshit loopy. And a Mormon. We'd have fun with him.

Pawlenty is a cunt, but he's their cunt. So he'd be a strong choice for McCain. Biden would chew him up in the debates, but that's a minor thing.

I'd put an outside dime on Palin. McCain seemed to be manoeuvring on the "Obama hates women" meme, and he might just gamble that he can snare disaffected PUMA types by appointing a woman.

Anyway, who cares? Whoever he appoints, if you vote for McCain, you're a fucking idiot. No excuses this time. You know what you're buying.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Ssssh

If you reveal in court that we tortured him, we won't be your friends.

I hope we're all enjoying the liberty we expended so many Iraqi lives for.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Thin policy

This incoherent babble shows why the Tories should stick to not bothering with policies and keep to slamming Labour.

The shadow health secretary, Andrew Lansley, will use a speech to the thinktank Reform, entitled No Excuses, No Nannying, to set out proposals on how the government and business can work together to address problems caused by poor diet, alcohol abuse and lack of exercise.

So the government's new "no nannying" policy will not just let you get fat on your own accord and suffer the consequences but it will work with business to, erm, nanny you.

"Tell people that biology and the environment cause obesity and they are offered the one thing we have to avoid: an excuse," he will say.

Well, what does cause it?

If it's not the changing environment, what is it? Why are there more fatties today than there were yesterday? Hmm.

As it is, people who see more fat people around them may themselves be more likely to gain weight.

Oh.

So what we're saying is that people see fatties and go "hmmmm, I'd like to be like that" and immediately start gorging themselves?

Of course, what this clown actually means is that people see fatties and because they are not being chased by howling mobs yelling "you fat bastid", they think "hmmm, must be okay to be fat" and immediately start gorging themselves. But wait a minute. If it's okay to be fat, why are there so many fucking diet plans on the market? Why are supermodels so thin?

But there are many ads saying that it's okay to indulge yourself, aren't there? Yes, there are. So what is the message we are actually receiving? It's shit to be a fatty but don't worry, this particular ice-cream is just an indulgence, a sidestep into fantasy, not something that has any real effect in your life.

Why is this guy urging a clampdown on food advertising if it's your own fault that you get fat, not advertisers for pushing fatty, sugary food on you? (They don't take that approach to drug dealers, do they?) And why is he urging the food industry to reduce portion sizes if it's your own fault you are a pig?

And how the fuck is setting portion sizes not "nannying"?

Indeed, all of his proposals look like the kind of New Labour micromeddling that infuriates Tories:
supporting EU-wide proposals for mandatory front-of-pack food labelling
· asking the food industry to reduce portion sizes
· a clampdown on food advertising
· using role models and positive peer pressure to promote healthy living
· local campaigns to promote sport, exercise and healthy lifestyles.

He explains:

"Tackling the environment should not be a licence to lecture people, because they have no excuse not to exercise, or eat their fruit and vegetables. Nannying - at least among adults - is likely to be counterproductive. Providing information is empowering, lecturing people is not. So, no excuses, no nannying."

What?

Well okay, this is just:
He is bullying, you are nannying, I am providing information
because each party is proposing to do the same thing.

The Tory spin is that it will be positive about it:
"We must not constantly talk about tackling obesity and warning people about the negative consequences of obesity. Instead we must be positive - positive about the fun and benefits to be had from healthy living, trying to get rid of people's excuses for being obese by tackling the issue in a positive way."

Fuckwit. If carrots were more "fun" than burgers, we wouldn't need to be nannied into eating the fucking things.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Bits and pieces

Sometimes my life doesn't seem all that well integrated. It seems to be packed into compartments that overlap and intersect but are all the same separate. People rarely understand that and equally I don't understand how they are. That they feel monolothic and singular seems odd to me. I know I contain multitudes, and it seems odd that they want to be small. Because I don't. Even though I live a small life, and will not make much in the way of waves in this world, I feel that I am bigger than it. In some ways, of course, I am. I will live on in my children, and if I father them well, they will survive and prosper. I do not know what fathering them well consists in, but I do what I do with any compartment of my life: try to do the right thing by my own lights. I know I fail: part of having your self in different aspects is that you are able--doomed even--to audit yourself, to grade yourself even. I am though comfortable with failure. I do not consider failure a bad thing if you try your best, or even if you try at all. It's a curious word, failure, because we use it to mean falling short of a target and also achieving a target that was not high enough in some way.

There are people who wish I would love them, and I do, although they do not understand that I do, because I love them with one part, or some parts, of me. There are some people I love with every part of me, in every compartment: I am sure that three of them are my children, and less sure that four more are my family. This does not mean that they are part of every part of me, or have access to every compartment. It just means that there is nothing in me that doesn't love them, whatever I am, whatever I consist of, if I even consist of anything.

I wish that would be enough for you, because it is all there is of me to offer. But I know that people feel it lessens their importance to be important only some of the time, in some ways, to some part of a person. For me, that is enough, but I can understand that people can be frustrated not only that I feel it should be enough for them but that it is enough for me too. They want me to appreciate that they offer more than that, and are hurt that I don't want it.

But I cannot want it. I never have wanted to be the whole of what someone wants. I have only ever wanted to be a thing that they want among other things. I do not know that I am wrong to feel that, or you are wrong to feel what you feel, but I know that the two can be water and oil.

You know what is fucking weird? I understand that I am just spinning atoms, that I emanate epiphenomenally from the chemistry of my component parts, yet I feel like something that can love other bags of chemicals and I do not know how that can be explained by physics.

(I know that I want to touch you, to take one day out of our lives and set it aside, to make it just what it is. And I know that you can't do that, because you cannot find a way to make a compartment to put it in. I feel sad sometimes that the distance between people can be universes apart yet they inhabit the same planet, the same town, the same room, the same bed. I cannot feel it is wrong though to yearn to hold you in my arms one time, to kiss your face, to feel your pussy on my tongue.)

I know that seems an elaborate way of having your cake and eating it, but really it isn't. I believe rectitude has value and I do not believe I am doing anything wrong. That is probably because I do not believe you can truly be doing the wrong thing if you do not intend to. I have little tolerance for utilitarianism precisely because it lends itself too readily to justifying the wrong because it turns out right. But if we are aiming to do wrong, we are doing wrong.

That's not to say that you cannot do wrong by ignoring or failing to consider the outcomes what you do might have, but I am saying that you cannot intend wrong, observe good consequences and then claim to have done the right thing just because it turned out okay. And the reverse obviously, that you cannot be condemned for the bad outcomes of doing the right thing.

Is this thinking simply an outcome of believing myself to be someone who tries to do the right thing? Maybe, but without an absolute measure of good and bad, how else can we define them but by considering what seems right to us and wrong to us?

***

I was thinking today of H, who would have been my girlfriend had I not moved away from Cornwall. (Which sounds presumptuous but trust me, I don't have an unrealistic view of myself and this was something I knew for a fact.)

I remember drinking coffee with her in a backstreet in Penzance. She is crying because I have to go. I am fifteen and I cannot defy my father. My life ran off the rails at that point and has never refound them. I don't know what would have become of me had my dad taken the job he could have in the tax office in Truro.

I do not regret it, of course. I do not regret my life in any specific because regretting it is the end of the existence of my children, and I would not wish that, no matter what I believe the alternative would have been. But I know that I lost a lot. I belonged there. I had found happiness and was comfortable in a place I understood and fitted into. That hadn't always been true. I had a happy early childhood, but I was moved up to secondary school a year early and some of the other boys, resentful and cruel, bullied me for it. I was too quiet and gentle to do well in the rough and tumble of a boys' school, and being a swot made it worse for me. It took me until my fourth year to find my feet, to become friends with some of the boys who had once been my nemeses, to become confident and comfortable in myself.

I was bitter for a long time that my dad took that from me, because moving away from Cornwall was like having the rug pulled from under my feet and I fell hard, smack on my arse. It was difficult to adjust. In the sixth form of my new school, the students split into two factions. One set were academic achievers, my intellectual peers, I suppose, but also mostly Christians and deadly dull to me. The other set were the guys who would drop out after a year, thugs and no-marks. I liked them a lot better. There was no one like H, or M, or S, girls who I liked because they were clever but sparky. And above all, they were girls who liked me, and I like to be liked.

I remember that I was deeply smitten by another H, and I think she liked me, but she wouldn't go out with me because I wasn't a Christian. I went to their Fellowship meetings, but I was fooling no one. I think she dreamed of a man she could talk to about how lovely Jesus was; I dreamed of sucking her gorgeous tits.

Well, I never did, and more's the pity, and it seems curious, thinking back on it, that I didn't even keep in touch with the other H, although I liked her a lot. Perhaps I understood the impossibility of a friendship when I would be a couple of hundred miles away, with no money ever to visit. Or maybe I am being too generous about myself, because I have let countless people slip away (more because I do not like to impose myself than because I didn't want them to continue to be part of my life). But didn't they also let me go? Well, I am nothing special, just bits and pieces of a person, and who wants that? The rest of you seem satisfyingly whole, even if those wholes are messy sometimes.

Monday, August 18, 2008

The sun smells too loud

Postrock, as a genre, has died on its arse, throttled by pisspoor emulators of the figurehead bands. The problem is that the recipe is easy to follow, and tons of bands are now following it. Luckily, some of said figureheads have moved on: Sigur Ros to a more organic, richer sound on their latest; Mogwai into more experimental terrain, on a succession of patchy but interesting albums. The latest, The hawk is howling, is full of promise, exemplified by the teaser track, The sun smells too loud, which belies its crappy title by being a genuine monster. If you think Mogwai just do generic quiet-loud-quiet you'll be surprised by the belting groove of this monster: the thundering drums and circling keyboards do not let up for the whole length of the track. By all accounts, the album is generally downtempo, making this an oddity (much as Friend of the night was, as the teaser for their last album. But what a fine oddity it is! Something of a throwback, it sounds like Joy Division got Yo La Tengo in to do their melody. (Yes, as good as that sounds.) It's not fashionable, not a hint of electro going on, but it pounds and caresses in equal measure. I'm mega excited about Hawk.

It is making a nice break from dnb and techno, which are currently my listening pleasure. I've been checking out Dillinja (old skool hardedged dnb), Black Sun Empire (dark techstep, which you could compare to Pendulum, were Pendulum not shite), Echospace (dubtechno, which has to be heard to be believed, possibly requiring a couple of pieces of the herb to appreciate as it was intended), Clark's Turning Dragon (more techno than his previous work, but still excellent compositionally), Various (folky dubstep, which is only partway successful but still decently listenable), The Bug's London Zoo (pounding dancehall that brings the bass) and the brilliant Flying Lotus (I have Los Angeles on heavy rotation because I just can't get over how fucking good it is: people are saying he's the future of IDM, because his mix of hiphop structure and IDM technique is, for now, unique--but won't be once six thousand copyists have figured out how to do it). Add to that a dash of AFX because in an ideal world the Analord series would be considered the last word in electronica, so rich and varied is Aphex's palate.

***

I am out the back, smoking a cigar and drinking a fine port (well, I was a couple of nights ago, when I began this post, but tonight it's a half corona and a Hennessy cognac) and writing this on my new inexpensive laptop, and I have my fuck you mind installed.

I feel well. I feel it is possible. Now's a good time to beg for a loan or a favour.

Actually, nearly always is good for a favour. But it's a better time when the monkey is quiet and the black dog sleeps on the mat. It is broad and thin, and never reaches into my core, but I do not give up hope that it will.

I do not give up hope that I will be a contented grandpa, smoking a pipe in the walled yard of my stone house, dying with the sound of the sea in my ears and a smile on my lips.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Bayhing at the moon?

Oh and if Obama chooses Bayh, you're a fucking idiot if you vote for them too, as Jeff Goldberg shows.

McSane?

Er, John, *whispers* "Iraq... Afghanistan" *kof*

I just want to make it clear that while this blog will not be endorsing Obama, who is a horrible corporate shill, Third Way monster, who has hijacked the legitimate concerns of progressives as a way of skating into the Democratic candidacy, and will sell us all out as soon as look at us, it does take the position that if you vote for John McCain you are a total fucking idiot.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Set the hearing aid to 0

It'll fall on deaf ears but it's good to see that someone who knows the truth is willing to tell it.

The UK's drugs policy, and that of all Western nations, is absurd. Criminalising drug use has been a disaster, creating a huge black market that breeds violence and crime. And all to prevent people from doing something some people disapprove of.

Dealski or no dealski?

So we learn that Russia has offered to take Abkhazia and South Ossetia off Georgia's hands, should those areas (happily denuded of Georgians by Russian-funded militias and elements of the Russian military) vote for it (or not, given that Russia will be counting the votes), and has volunteered to further damage Georgia's army and infrastructure if Georgia doesn't like the deal.

Well, I don't suppose attacking South Ossetia was all that smart in retrospect, but Saakashvili was in an impossible spot and of course he's not alone in sending the troops into part of his own country and severely damaging it (the UK didn't shell Belfast but South Ossetia is not entirely different from Northern Ireland). I think you can understand the strategic calculus from his point of view: go in hard, reassert Georgian power in South Ossetia, present Russians with fait accompli, call for American help (at least in terms of diplomatic pressure) if it all goes pearshaped.

The clear winners are Russia. I'm pretty sure they don't have all that much use for South Ossetia or Abkhazia, but the message is clear for those who don't enjoy their meddling or who want to align themselves closely with the West: when push comes to shove, Russia will be doing the shoving hard. And the US has been shown, in a few breathtaking days of violence, that Russia knows it's a paper tiger and can go about its business without caring what the Americans think about it.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Premier preview

So I didn't watch as much football as I might have last season, but I now have a DVD recorder. Of course, I've never actually managed to get it to record anything, but that's a minor issue.

The upcoming season promises to be exciting. For me, it will hopefully be enjoyable to watch Leeds make a procession of League One, or whatever the hell they're calling the third division these days. They are worth favourites, and without a points penalty, should walk it. Overconfident? Well, let's hope not. Leeds have a solid Championship side and shouldn't struggle.

The Premiership looks set to be hotly contested, but will it be?

Arsenal look slightly weaker than they were last season. They hung onto Adebayor but lost Flamini and Hleb. They have signed promising youngsters in Ramsay and Nasri, but it's not certain either will do well in the Premiership. Nasri was a bright star in France though, so maybe. If Nasri settles, and does what it seems he's capable of, Arsenal could go all the way. That's a big if though.

Villa have been distracted by the Gareth Barry saga, but in any case, their small squad does not look particularly strong. O'Neill is a great manager but competing with the best in this division costs a lot of money.

Blackburn may struggle. I think the appointment of Ince was a misstep. He seems already to have pissed off the dressing room. Top footballers, particularly Europeans, do not expect to be treated like squaddies. I haven't seen much sign that Ince is that cluey a manager either, and he never did come across as particularly smart. Their squad is decent but I think Hughes got a lot out of them. Still, Gamst Pedersen was disappointing last season, so he may show more and they could find themselves in the top ten. They'd have to count that as success imo.

Bolton look underpowered, and will struggle. Only the relative weakness of other teams will rescue them.

Chelsea are obviously a great chance of winning the league. Not only is their side of very high quality, but Scolari is an accomplished coach, a player's manager who has a good grasp of tactics. Hanging on to Drogba was a big plus for Chelsea. I'm not convinced by the purchase of Deco, and if Chelsea manage to sign Kaka, it's hard to see Deco even getting a game, but Chelsea are my tip for this season because they have improved their squad over last season with him and Bosingwa, and with a stronger coach, they should find the small improvement they need to be best.

Everton have confounded expectations for some time. There's no doubt Moyes has done a fantastic job, moulding a very decent side out of fairly unlikely elements. I wonder whether this is a season too far for them though. Sides that punch above their weight often crash catastrophically, and I think we could see Everton among the strugglers this season. They don't seem to have signed anyone this summer, and a few have gone out the door, although they are mostly fringe players who won't be missed. I think they may now be too light a squad to have a realistic tilt at European football, because others have strengthened considerably.

Fulham are shit, and were really lucky not to go down last season. Hodgson has recruited well: I think Johnson is a bit overrated but he does a job and Gera is a fantastic player, just what an often lumpen Fulham have lacked. And they also will benefit from the poor competition at the bottom, because I'd lay odds that Stoke and Hull will both go down, and one of Wigan and West Brom should be joining them. But Fulham could be dragged into it. I rate Hodgson, so I hope not, but they are a side whose days at the top are probably limited.

Hull are going down. They're shit and it's only a matter of whether they are bottom or second to bottom in the final shakeup.

Liverpool pose one of the big questions in the Premiership: can they win consistently enough to pose a challenge? I dunno. I don't think that their side is any better than it was last year: Keane is a better player than Crouch but I don't think he's a great fit alongside Torres (Keane likes to come short to pick up the ball and then run at defences; Torres likes the ball played through--hard to see how they can both be served well). Barry is not better than Alonso by a long chalk. Actually, I think Alonso is superior and it's fortunate for Liverpool that they didn't manage to sell him. He will likely be unsettled though. And here's the thing: settled teams win the league. Ferguson sends out the same side week after week if it's fit. Benitez sacrifices the togetherness of a settled side for picking what he sees as the most fitting side for each match. I think Benitez's approach is wrong, and Liverpool are likely to fall short. Very short, actually. I can see at least four teams that will be superior to them, and it's possible that they'll finish even lower than fifth this time.

Man City are a side that the neutral finds easy to love, but they should be hated, more even than Chelsea. Allowing Shinawatra, who in a just world would be serving time, control was shit. Still, the comedy of their unravelling should make up for it, if it turns out that Shinawatra meets justice or loses his money. Shinawatra is all bullshit and no actual money, and it looks like they can't pay for the players they bought. But we'll see. In his big signing, Hughes hasn't learnt from previous mistakes: players that score shitloads in crap leagues generally fail in better leagues, and players who succeed in Russia almost never do well elsewhere, with a few obvious exceptions. Is Jo the answer for City? I don't think so. I doubt he'll score in the double figures. Still, City has a more than decent midfield, with Elano and Petrov quality players (Elano is one of the obvious exceptions that I was just talking about!), and Hughes is an excellent motivator and a wily tactician. They could quite possibly get into the top six if all goes well and I'm wrong about Jo. Sigh. It's hard to hate them, after all.

Man Utd, though, are not hard to hate. When looking at their squad, I'm like, who cares? I just want them to lose every match. Objectively (lol), they have a strong squad and a fantastic manager, and will be very hard to overcome. Should they sign another world-class striker, omg. They'll miss Queiroz a lot though, and they were pretty lucky with injuries last season. So let's go out on a limb and say that they will just fall short this season, with Chelsea most likely to be a little bit better. Obv. I hate Chelsea too, so I'm hoping for plenty of Nasri magic.

Middlesbrough are grindingly boring to watch and always finish eighth. They'll be the same as ever.

Newcastle are the comedy team of the Premiership. Always hyped up, never any good, with a defence that has neutrals in stitches, and behind the scenes shenanigans that never fail to amuse. The defence should benefit from the addition of Coloccini, who is an excellent player, but their squad looks thin and midtable beckons. As for Owen, the suggestion that he's worth more money when he's played maybe 50 games in three seasons is ridiculous. I also dislike Keegan. The guy's a clown, absolutely clueless. But he's very suited to Newcastle. They have huge aspirations but their chances of fulfilling them are very slim. But they'll make us laugh. At them, not with them.

Pompey are the most improved team of recent years, reminiscent of Charlton in the way they have successively strengthened. It's all down to Harry, of course. He's always been an astute coach, and he understands the dynamics of a squad better than anyone. I don't think Pompey can go any higher, so probably the only way for them is down, but as long as Harry is in the hot seat, they will be comfortable imo. Losing Muntari is going to hurt, but Pompey's strength is their formidable defence. I think they are again going to be hard to beat, and should finish in the top ten, maybe with a decent run in the UEFA Cup.

Stoke are going down. They're shit and it's only a matter of whether they are bottom or second to bottom in the final shakeup.

Sunderland are my proxy side in the Premiership. (They are M's team.) Which has meant adjusting my view of Roy Keane from something akin to shit on my shoe to footballing messiah. He's done a fine job at Sunderland. They played football appropriate to their resources last season, and with a bit more luck would have stayed up much more comfortably. Keane has recruited well: Tainio is a more than useful utility player, Malbranque a talented playmaker and Chimbonda a fine attacking fullback. Diouf is inconsistent but he does have some class, even if as a person he's a complete prick. Sunderland should be well clear of the mire this season, if only because the promoted sides are so bad, and the top half is not impossible, even if unlikely.

Tottenham are another team I love to hate, but they have provided the excitement in the transfer market this summer. Modric and dos Santos are exciting young players--selling the latter may turn out to be a huge mistake for Barcelona. Bentley is a fine prospect, and Tottenham already had plenty of talent in midfield. If they hang onto Berbatov, and perhaps add a striker--maybe Arshavin, but he comes with the same caveats as Jo--they could do very well. I would be excited were I a Spurs supporter. I can definitely see them in the top four. Whether they will be good enough or consistent enough to overhaul the Scum and Chelsea is a different question, but it's not impossible, and you haven't been able to say that about Tottenham for some time.

West Brom are bad but I think that over the season, Hull and Stoke will be worse. Brom have made some reasonable signings and Mowbray is a more than decent coach, it seems, but I'd be surprised if they weren't firmly in the bottom four at the end of the season, and we could well see all three promoted teams swiftly return to the Championship.

West Ham flattered to deceive last season and I can't see them doing better this. However, Julien Faubert was missing all of last season, and he's a huge talent. Will he fit into the Irons' side and the Premiership? It's hard to say but if he does and works well with Parker, West Ham should be about tenth again. They are one of the sides that could struggle though, particularly if key players are hit by injury.

Wigan should be shit, but I think Bruce has made some canny buys and they could be slightly better than the promoted sides. Not much, but probably enough.

So I'm thinking Chelsea, Arsenal, the Scum and Spurs in that order. Liverpool probably fifth, but maybe as low as sixth if Shinawatra stays out of jail. A ton of sides could be anything from seven to seventeenth. I'd expect Hull and Stoke to go down, and one of (most likely) West Brom, Fulham, Wigan and Bolton to join them. Everton may be the "side too good to go down" this season, but I think, erm, they're too good to go down.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Asboring

The last sentence of this article says all you need to know about the New Labour project in the UK.

It's hard to believe the air of optimism and excitement that greeted the election of Bliar and his party in 1997. How they squandered our goodwill. Their chief problem, in social politics, in my view, was that they responded to the sections of society who it is easy to pander to (although they are impossible to please). The lower-middle-class readers of the Daily Mail want governments who seem to be "cracking down" on someone or something all the time. They want governments to act, and act now. And what they mostly want is action against niggers, gyppos and the underclass, all of whom have their hand in the Mail reader's back pocket.

I say problem, because it's a problem from the point of view of anyone who wants social justice in the UK. For New Labour, there's no problem so long as they retain power. They can fiddle cosmetically at the margins and appear to be doing something, getting re-elected by people who were scarred by the Tories. Now New Labour are struggling for two reasons: first, people have forgotten what shitheads the Tories really are, because they are pretending to give a shit about society; second, New Labour are worse. They've out-Toried the Tories. They hate the people. They drip with contempt for us. Their initiatives, their policies, their endless chattering all have one message: you are stupid children who need nannying by us because we know better.

Well, you can get away with that when you have the illusion of competence that faking a strong economy by pumping up a housing bubble gives you. But when the air starts to leak out of housing, and the oil crisis bites (and your refusal for so many years to look forward and pump money into alternative energy until it's too late starts to hurt), and you make blunder after blunder, losing the support of the press, all we can see then is a sternfaced bureaucrat, telling us we don't know how to run our own lives, giving us nothing, and hating on Muslims just isn't enough smokescreen for your inadequacies.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

LUFC 4eva

Here we go with Leeds United
We're gonna give the boys a hand
Stand up and sing for Leeds United
They are the greatest in the land

Every day, we're all gonna say
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!
Everywhere, we're gonna be there
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!

Marching on together
We're gonna see you win (na na na na na na)
We are so proud
We shout it out loud
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!

We've been through it all together
And we've had our ups and downs (ups and downs!)
We're gonna stay with you forever
At least until the world stops going 'round

Every day, we're all gonna say
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!
Everywhere, we're gonna be there
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!

Marching on together
We're gonna see you win (na na na na na na)
We are so proud
We shout it out loud
We love you Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!

wat

Best story ever.

I particularly like this:

May was also bailed and at this point they fled to Canada disguised asmime artists.

Officials at customs were quoted as saying that they thought the pair could not leave the country because they seemed to be stuck in some sort of invisible box, but as soon as they weren't looking, shazam, with a combination of sadface makeup and frowns, McKinney was free.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Q is for quit now, you loser

I wish Word had libraries, like Quark's. The clipboard viewing thing is okay, but libraries are really cool when you have elements you're going to use a lot, such as captions, headings, text references to figures. And they persist across sessions, which is cool.

I'd also like to know why I can't install the fax program. That really suxxorz. I don't often send faxes but having to go to the post office when I want to sucks buttocks.

Actually, I wish I was actually computer literate. It would be cool to know what programs I could get (begging, borrowing or stealing without infesting my machine with trojans and rootkits), how to set them up and how to get the best out of them. But I'm of the wrong generation and temperament.

***

I do not know what a cosine is. So what? Lots of people don't. Most people don't. I have no reason to know it, by which I mean I have no use for knowing it. I have a reason in the other sense, because I studied cosines at school.

But I cannot remember at all what it is. I know it has something to do with angles, the relationship between lines, but I don't know what.

I can look it up and I probably will, but in six months, I think I won't remember again.

I find it odd that it's disappeared so utterly. I'm mildly curious whether I lost it to E or weed, but I don't know whether your brain works like that. You must store knowledge somewhere in it but does it lack redundancy? You are supposed to forget when you age. Maybe you just forget because you re-use the neurons for something else. I am probably destroying all my hardwon knowledge of wheat with poker.

Thinking about poker makes me sigh, because you really do pump your head full of it, and it would be so much better for me to have a hundred things about poker that I know, rather than a thousand things I might know. I should sit down and figure out what those hundred things are, and be sure that I really do know them.

It's not my way though. I've never been systematic. I jackdaw knowledge to the extent that I have no idea what I know and what I don't know. Which can be frustrating.

Cosine
1. In a right triangle, the ratio of the length of the side adjacent to an acute angle to the length of the hypotenuse.


Adjacent over hypotenuse. Now it all floods back. It's the ratio of the line that makes the angle with the hypoteneuse to the hypotenuse.

2. The abscissa at the endpoint of an arc of a unit circle centered at the origin of a Cartesian coordinate system, the arc being of length x and measured counterclockwise from the point (1, 0) if x is positive or clockwise if x is negative.

wat

I actually know what this is, but that paragraph makes my head hurt. I say "know what it is" but that's an exaggeration for "have a vague clue what it is".

I used to be able to differentiate and integrate too, but you know, don't even ask. Sometimes I feel I should relearn this shit, but what would I do with it? What do I do with anything I know though?

***

I've been listening to a lot of new music recently, in particular Jega, Frog Pocket, Remarc and Flying Lotus. (And a lot more besides, but that, and I suppose Shitmat, is what's found its way onto heavy rotation.)

Jega is IDM in a mu-Ziq vein, often upbeat techno, some glitchy stuff and some mutant dnb. Frog Pocket is lovely, pastoral IDM, which I wish I could get more of. I have Gonglot and it's a tremendous grower. Once you "get it", you listen to it and then you want to listen all over again. Some of it is lovely, stately and weird, but not weird in that unlistenable way some experimental music is (it's quite loveable, and I defy anyone to love Quaristice, for example--or even like it much, actually, since it sounds like a bunch of tapes picked up from the studio floor, polished off and passed off as fully made music tracks). Remarc is proto-dnb, back from the day when it was still jungle. It's technical and clever: essential for the Amenaholic, which I confess to being. Flying Lotus is the kind of music that gets described as underground hiphop, but that gives entirely the wrong impression. It's basically IDM approached from a hiphop angle. If you were thinking Prefuse 73 with a Warp vibe, you are in the ballpark. It's of a rare quality, the kind of stuff that has you stopping midsong and saying to yourself, how fucking good is that?

Shitmat is of course Shitmat. High-speed, high-voltage cartoon breakcore. It's totally in your face but loveable, if that makes sense.

***

How the fuck am I yet again 71 of 75 in a 4/180? I should be good enough to win these from time to time but mostly I finish 60th. I do play tight in MTTs, but not excessively so AFAIK. More of a problem is that I'll play well for two hours and then have a fugue, a period in which I outfish the fish and blow it. I don't think I'll get the opportunity in this one. I will just shove a decent hand, get called by something bad, and watch in horror as something bad turns into unbeatable trips.

Meh meh meh. 69/73. It looks better but it's exactly the same. Eighteen get paid. Luckily, I'm playing it with T$ I won in a $2 satellite, so basically it's a freeroll. 66/70. I will be 60th at best. I push A3 from small blind, then KQs from button. 63/69. Onwards, upwards, mes braves.

***

Damon Albarn thinks kids should be made to learn to read music. Yeah right. Actually, I can pretty much read music but I can't play a note. Guess which skill I wish I'd been taught and which one I have no use for at all?

Osama's driver gets "light" sentence. I don't consider what has happened to this guy "light". Okay, he picked the wrong guy to be chauffeur for, but since when was driving someone around a war crime? If it was, a lot of taxi drivers in Washington would be best off not going anywhere near the Hague.

Talking of war, heeeeeeere's Putin. Of all the things man has invented, nations have to be one of the most miserable. What shitty ideas to die for they are. Not that there are all that many good ideas to die for.

Although, having said that, I was struck by a thought. I consider loss of life a terrible thing, but when I have lost mine, I will not even know about it. (Yes, I know, that's not the deepest philosophical statement.) But I wonder how big a step it is from realising that to finding war thrilling to take part in. What does it matter that you risk dying young? Only pain will matter to you really. And pain is hard to be really scared of if you have never felt it. Getting shot must hurt, but you can't know that it hurts in that particular way unless you've been shot before.

(I snapped off a couple of minbet bluffs in a hand that I paired on the pot and now I'm 53/63. Admit it: you're starting to care.)

I have no problem with willing combatants killing each other. I suppose that it's morally depraved to kill someone, but if you're both up for it, I'm unclear what the moral crime would be. I don't consider someone who kills another in the boxing ring to be a murderer after all. If we could set aside space for those who want to fight to fight, that would be civilised enough for me. It's the involvement of the rest of us that bothers me. Give Al Qaida and the patriots of America swords and spears and let them have at it. There's plenty of open space in Australia. They can get it on here. We could sell tickets.

(I shoved QQ over a minraise. Minraiser called with 88. Unbelievably, the bitches held up. 29/61. Woot. I'll still be 60th though. The only way I won't be is we get down to 59 before I can do something stupid.)


I think we should find something else to call gays than "gay". Then we can dissociate the meaning of "gay" that is something like "limp", "unmanly" from the one that is something like "fucks men or would like to" and this chick's song will no longer be offensive. Not that anyone seems all that offended. Even Peter Tatchell, who finds something to be offended at in practically every waking hour, isn't that bothered. He prefers to fulminate against ragga stars. I'm not suggesting anything, but Tatchell is an Aussie and ragga stars are mostly black. It's up to you if you want to join the dots.

***

My cursor disappeared for a while. I don't know why it does that. I am 30/55, playing well. I folded KQ in the SB to a raise, which most people won't do, but I don't like playing easily dominated hands OOP, and stole the blinds with 99. So I'm in fairly decent shape, with 15BB at t200.

***

What should I do? Mrs Zen's laptop died. My laptop guy fixed it but the fix didn't last. I think it's actually gone to laptop heaven now, although I could fix it again. I have some tax rebate money though, and it's burning a hole in my pocket.

Should I a/ buy Mrs Zen a cheapo laptop; if so, which? I hear Vista won't run well on a gig of RAM and you can't get machines with XP for cheap, b/ buy myself a new lappy, resolving my lack of DVD drive, c/ buy something second hand for Mrs Zen and risk another breakdown with little use, but lose less if Naughtyman gives it the water torture, d/ spend a bit more and get something not flash but able to run Vista well or with XP? Answers on a postcard.

(J4 in the BB, I flop trip 4s. Button bets, I call. He bets again turn, I raise, and we get it in on the river. He has a pair and doubles me up. His play stinks: a/ limping 9 high from the button is awful and b/ when I call on flop, betting turn is dubious, calling raise terrible. 11/48. Go on, you really are caring. Don't rush to the end to find out what happens! I steal blinds with AKs, 12/43.)

***

Meh, I foresee problems with this guy's book, which will probably make my editing moot. Not that I care about that as a result: I get paid whatever. But it would have been a lot easier if it had been sorted out earlier.

My guy has been a lot of help. He's basically just got on with it with much less fuss than I expected (some, but not a bundle), and he's done quite a bit. I still have a dreary slog ahead but I hope not to have too much left on when my sister gets here next week.

Shit, for reasons known only to itself my poker table won't pop up when I have to act. Something is interfering with it, but I don't know what: this window, Word, the PDFs I had open, my HUD. See? I told you I wished I was computer literate. In the normal run of things, you just use the tool and it's not problematic. Just occasionally, it's a real PITA because something goes wrong that you can't readily fix. And having to minimise everything just to fold my hand is really annoying. Maybe I need to have the table minimised? I'll try that.

Yep, seems to have worked. Pity I've gone card dead though. 18/36.

***

Jeez, so card dead. Shoved 72 BvB. Always nice to win with the worst cards.

They say cards don't matter in poker, but I think you have to be a lot better at it than I am for that to be true. They matter a lot to me. 22/26 and it's going to be tough to sneak into the money. The rare times I don't finish 60th, I'm often 21st, just out of the money, because I don't play to cash, baybee, I play to win. Curiously, that approach has never led to, erm, winning. But it does in theory.

Theory! I have tons of the fuckers. But life conspires to deny me experience. It's the same with writing. Write what you know, they say. But what I know wouldn't fill a novel, at least not an interesting one.

I've now played one hand out of 25, and that was 72. 20/24 at the second break and praying for rain in the form of aces.

***

Southern Spice is the best Indian restaurant in Brisbane by so far that second is not even in the same race. But it doesn't deliver. And I can't spare the time to drive there to pick up. How sad is that?

Brisbane sucks for vegetarians. There are no decent Mexicans. I sometimes eat from Pepes, but it's horribly bland. (76s in the BB, limped to me, I check. QT8 flop with two of my suit. Button bets and I CRAI to make him fold. 13/22. I thought I was going to be 23rd there but with 13 outs and fold equity you've got to try to take down a 3.6K pot.) It doesn't deliver either. Indian food is usually bland here. Southern Spice isn't, and it's usually packed with Indians on account of that. (It's always a good sign that an Indian is patronised by Indians, because they are choosy about food ime.) Chinese here either don't know or don't care what vegetarian means. Traditional Australian cuisine does not involve vegetables other than carrots or peas and modern Australian is legendary for being inedible. Italian would be good if I lived in Melbourne, but I don't. You'd think it would be impossible to fuck up Italian but they manage.

I fancy a mutter paneer. Perhaps Mrs Zen can be inveigled into fetching one. Perhaps I will take a break. M is supposed to be coming to pick up Mrs Z's car (he borrows it most weekends because his died). Maybe take a break when he comes.

Which reminds me. I need to flog myself to do more of this book. I can't fall behind the pace.

A BvB shove with J4 two out of the money takes balls. I have them. I did it again from the button with AQs. But the third time, AT in the cutoff, I passed. The BB had 27K to my 8K. He's liable to call out of sheer annoyance, and even if I'm ahead, I'll get sucked out on way too often for comfort. 14/20. Two hands later I pick up AJ. Can't fold that. Arrrrrrin. 13/20.

Woot. Aces in the BB. SOMEONE PLEASE PUSH! Nah. But some guy raised to 4x on button and gave it up when I shoved over. 10/19. Teh bubble!

Meh. Had to double up shorty with 74s. He had AK. He minraised but left so little behind that I had to get it in with him. No luck there. Meh. Hate it when you're left wishing you had folded and saved the chips.

Woot! Money. 12/18 and 8.84 in teh bank! Fine reward for more than two hours' work. Got to make final table of 9 to make more money than that.

Shove 66 over two limpers. One with KQ calls. MHIG. 5/15.

QJ in BB. Q high flop. Guy bets, I call. Turn is a blank. He bets again, I call. River is a J. He bets, I raise decently (actually, just short of putting him all in but I didn't realise that). He calls. He had made two purrrr on the turn but obviously a worse one. 1/13. Yeah baybee!

Boo. JJ. 4x raise. I call. He shoves rag flop. QQ. I lose monster pot but that's just the way it goes sometimes. Lucky one hand, not so lucky the next. 7/10. I shove A4 over two limpers. All fold.

FT. Pay boost. I have AA first hand. I raise 3x. Guy from previous hand repops. I call. Flop is J high. I shove over his cbet and he calls with KK. BOOM! Someone say swings and roundabouts ftw. 2/9 and I smell money. Run hot D, run hot!

2/7 at the break. This is what's scary about poker tourneys. I've played really well, without needing to be too lucky (a bit here, a bit there). I've won 25 dollars so far, but top prize is 216. (I know, it's not enough to retire on.) I've never won a 4/180 (haven't played that many, tbh) and would sure like to. I have a decent chance: no one else at this table looks to have any clue how to play an FT.

Nice. 88. I call raise. Flop is rags. He bets, I raise, he calls. I shove turn. He folds and says he has AK. Yes, I know. His betting gave it away. 1/6.

Beat guy's AK again. He whines about it, but frankly, if he'd shoved pre, I would have folded my Q9s. 1/5.

Down to 4 and fishes limping left, right and centre. I need some cards to wreak some havoc with.

Chit. Threehanded and fish calls raise and cbet with AK. She claims to have paired her Q on the river. Sigh. 3/3. That hurt.

Actually, it really hurts playing fish and losing with my only decent hand. They limp into everything, and call everything, so stealing is very hand. But we're deep (I have 30BB at t2000) so plenty of time to make a hand and double again.

Although it won't happen if the fish keep hitting flops. The CL has had an unbelievable array of big hands, none of which she has raised.

FUCK. A8. I hit an A on the flop and bet. Fish calls. I bet again turn, he calls again. River pairs the board. I bet, he shoves. I have to call. Yes, he called me down with middle pair and made trips on the river. That's how it goes with the fishies. Third for 86 dollars. Any other card but a K or 9 comes on the river, I would have been second, and almost certain to win. Sigh.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Hello desk

So I'm chained to the desk for a week or more. Which is really inconvenient because my sister S is visiting with her baby next week. But what can you do? My people in Singapore asked me to do some proofreading so I said yes, and next thing I know, the proofreading is the full project. Which instead of the maybe 30 hours I agreed to will take me 75 hours if I do it ultra fast. I can't say no. If I do, you can count on my never receiving more work from these people.

So I asked a couple of people to help and they both agreed, so that was cool, but it turned out to be more hassle getting them to help than it would be just to do it myself. I suppose I'm used to this sort of work and know what it takes, so it's not unreasonable for others to say that they need samples to figure out how hard it is, blah blah, but I needed someone just to say, okay, I'll do ten hours, no problem, and just do it. It's not rocket science. I have to go through the MS really quickly, correcting gross errors in English. I don't have time to complete a work of art; I just have to make sure everything's spelled correctly and the sentences make a bare sort of sense. To be fair, last time I needed someone to pick up a whole project, it was a pro editor and he was so whiny that I wouldn't even ask him this time.

So the 20 hours I hoped to farm out I now will be spending doing this shit when my sister is here. Sigh. I never thought I would ever want to know other editors...