I love Wikipedia:
"The world record for most aces in a match is held by John Isner, with 93 aces (although game still ongoing) in a first round match against Nicolas Mahut at the 2010 Wimbledon Championships on June 23, 2010 (Mahut holds second place with 80 in the same match)."
Four minutes later:
"The world record for most aces in a match is held by John Isner, with 93 aces (although game still ongoing) in a first round match against Nicolas Mahut at the 2010 Wimbledon Championships on June 23, 2010 (Mahut holds second place with 82 in the same match)."
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
News coverage of important and complicated economic developments is often very helpful, but sometimes it leaves more questions that it answers. I was trying to get to grips with the Budget's implications for welfare this morning, but the few headline measures don't really mean anything if you don't understand how tax credits work. So this morning I spent a few minutes getting to understand the system and a few more minutes trying to model the reforms.
There are two main sorts of tax credits in the UK: Working Tax Credits, paid to those in work but on low incomes, and Child Tax Credits, paid to those with children. The two credits replaced the old Working Families Tax Credits, which basically did the same but in one go.
There is a maximum value for each component of each credit, which is reduced as your income increases. There is what is called the first threshold (presently, £6420), where earning below this means you get the maximum. At present, tax credits are taken away at a rate 39p for each pound earnt over that threshold. They are technically ordered as well, so that the first credits to be removed are working tax credits (which have a basic component, a component for being a lone parent or a couple, and a component for working over 30 hours a week), then childcare, then the variable components of Child Tax Credits (children, baby, disability) except for the family component (which is the basic fixed element). The family component remains at £545 until the second threshold, £50,000, and then removed at a rate of 6.7p for every pound earned after that.
OK so far? The key changes in yesterday's budget are that the rate of removal is being changed to 41p for each pound for all credits (including the family component of the Child Tax Credit) and that the second threshold is being reduced to £40,000 next year. The one change that hasn't really been picked up on is that the second threshold for the family componet will be scrapped in 2012-13, so the family component will be removed immediately after all other components are - I'll show an example in a minute, but it basically hits everyone earning from about £23000 to £40,000. The baby component is being withdrawn.
At the same time, the children component of the Child Tax credit is being increased by £150 per year (in real terms) and another £60 the following year. Currently, this component is £2300 per child. This shifts the benefits from tax credits in favour of the lowest earners. Added to this, the tax allowance rose by £1000. Anyone earning between the current level and the new level will now pay no tax, and anyone earning above it will pay about £200 less tax each year. Those who have been taken out of tax will gain between 20p (for the person earning £1 more than the old threshold) and £199.80 (for the person earning £1 less than the new threshold).
Ignoring the income tax issue for the moment, I wanted to figure out who is better or worse off from the tax credit changes, so I put all of this into a model and looked at changes for benefits for incomes ranging from £1000 per year to £70,000 per year. I just focused on families (single parent or otherwise) with children (not babies and not disabled), so they receive a working tax credit - maximum of £3810 if they earn below £9,000, £4,600 if they earn over that, because at that point you would expect the person works 30+ hours in a week and receives an extra £790 - a child tax credit (maximum of £2300 per child in 2010, £2450 in 2011 and £2510 in 2012) and the family component (maximum of £545). I ignored childcare credits and child benefit for simplicity and kept all other benefits and the first threshold constant.
If you have one child, you are better off in both years if you earn less than £13,000 per year, by up to £210. This is important for government aims about poverty - the benchmark threshold for poverty in the UK is around £13,000 (about 60% of median income). So any claims that this Budget do not hurt the poorest stand up to some scrutiny here.
Up to £17000, you gain in 2012-13, but lose less in 2011-12. Above that, the losses this year from the steeper withdrawl tend to outweigh the gains the following year from the higher children component. The total net losses are between £0 and £120, depending on income.
Families earning between £24,000 and £40,000 are not affected this year, as they only received the family component. Above £41,000, the family component disappears, so familes between £41,000 and £50,000 lose all or most of their current credits this year. Next year, families earning between £24,000 and £41,000 will lose the family component due to the scrapping of the second threshold. This is why it is surprising this reform hasn't been picked up on - it will affect a lot of people to the tune of £550 per year. At the same time, it's not surprising how little it has been mentioned, because it's a bit complicated to get at.
For example, if you have two children, the patterns are roughly the same, but the exact thresholds change, and the headline "Families to lose £550 per year if they earn a certain amount per year" wouldn't work well. In this case, it is families between £31,000 and £40,000 that will lose the family component of their tax credit in 2012-13.
One last thing is the income disregard change from £25,000 to £5000. This, unlike what I thought after my first reading, is not a threshold, but a way of dealing with unexpected changes in income. So you earn £12,000 the previous year and are given the appropriate tax credit payment for the coming year. At the end of the year you earn £14,000. The income disregard means you haven't got to pay any credit back if your income change is small enough. "Small enough" used to mean £25,000 a year, and will now mean £5,000 per year. A tightening of the belt, for sure, but not one anywhere near as scary as the magnitude of the numbers (a drop of 80%), once you understand what it is. And now you do too.
Anway, that's all the numbers. The welfare state is a topic which raises strong emotions, often at the expense of facts. I would want to do nothing about the emotions, but hopefully this will do something for the facts.
By the way, our tax and benefit system hurts my head.
UPDATE: Some attention now being paid to the middle income families issue.
There are two main sorts of tax credits in the UK: Working Tax Credits, paid to those in work but on low incomes, and Child Tax Credits, paid to those with children. The two credits replaced the old Working Families Tax Credits, which basically did the same but in one go.
There is a maximum value for each component of each credit, which is reduced as your income increases. There is what is called the first threshold (presently, £6420), where earning below this means you get the maximum. At present, tax credits are taken away at a rate 39p for each pound earnt over that threshold. They are technically ordered as well, so that the first credits to be removed are working tax credits (which have a basic component, a component for being a lone parent or a couple, and a component for working over 30 hours a week), then childcare, then the variable components of Child Tax Credits (children, baby, disability) except for the family component (which is the basic fixed element). The family component remains at £545 until the second threshold, £50,000, and then removed at a rate of 6.7p for every pound earned after that.
OK so far? The key changes in yesterday's budget are that the rate of removal is being changed to 41p for each pound for all credits (including the family component of the Child Tax Credit) and that the second threshold is being reduced to £40,000 next year. The one change that hasn't really been picked up on is that the second threshold for the family componet will be scrapped in 2012-13, so the family component will be removed immediately after all other components are - I'll show an example in a minute, but it basically hits everyone earning from about £23000 to £40,000. The baby component is being withdrawn.
At the same time, the children component of the Child Tax credit is being increased by £150 per year (in real terms) and another £60 the following year. Currently, this component is £2300 per child. This shifts the benefits from tax credits in favour of the lowest earners. Added to this, the tax allowance rose by £1000. Anyone earning between the current level and the new level will now pay no tax, and anyone earning above it will pay about £200 less tax each year. Those who have been taken out of tax will gain between 20p (for the person earning £1 more than the old threshold) and £199.80 (for the person earning £1 less than the new threshold).
Ignoring the income tax issue for the moment, I wanted to figure out who is better or worse off from the tax credit changes, so I put all of this into a model and looked at changes for benefits for incomes ranging from £1000 per year to £70,000 per year. I just focused on families (single parent or otherwise) with children (not babies and not disabled), so they receive a working tax credit - maximum of £3810 if they earn below £9,000, £4,600 if they earn over that, because at that point you would expect the person works 30+ hours in a week and receives an extra £790 - a child tax credit (maximum of £2300 per child in 2010, £2450 in 2011 and £2510 in 2012) and the family component (maximum of £545). I ignored childcare credits and child benefit for simplicity and kept all other benefits and the first threshold constant.
If you have one child, you are better off in both years if you earn less than £13,000 per year, by up to £210. This is important for government aims about poverty - the benchmark threshold for poverty in the UK is around £13,000 (about 60% of median income). So any claims that this Budget do not hurt the poorest stand up to some scrutiny here.
Up to £17000, you gain in 2012-13, but lose less in 2011-12. Above that, the losses this year from the steeper withdrawl tend to outweigh the gains the following year from the higher children component. The total net losses are between £0 and £120, depending on income.
Families earning between £24,000 and £40,000 are not affected this year, as they only received the family component. Above £41,000, the family component disappears, so familes between £41,000 and £50,000 lose all or most of their current credits this year. Next year, families earning between £24,000 and £41,000 will lose the family component due to the scrapping of the second threshold. This is why it is surprising this reform hasn't been picked up on - it will affect a lot of people to the tune of £550 per year. At the same time, it's not surprising how little it has been mentioned, because it's a bit complicated to get at.
For example, if you have two children, the patterns are roughly the same, but the exact thresholds change, and the headline "Families to lose £550 per year if they earn a certain amount per year" wouldn't work well. In this case, it is families between £31,000 and £40,000 that will lose the family component of their tax credit in 2012-13.
One last thing is the income disregard change from £25,000 to £5000. This, unlike what I thought after my first reading, is not a threshold, but a way of dealing with unexpected changes in income. So you earn £12,000 the previous year and are given the appropriate tax credit payment for the coming year. At the end of the year you earn £14,000. The income disregard means you haven't got to pay any credit back if your income change is small enough. "Small enough" used to mean £25,000 a year, and will now mean £5,000 per year. A tightening of the belt, for sure, but not one anywhere near as scary as the magnitude of the numbers (a drop of 80%), once you understand what it is. And now you do too.
Anway, that's all the numbers. The welfare state is a topic which raises strong emotions, often at the expense of facts. I would want to do nothing about the emotions, but hopefully this will do something for the facts.
By the way, our tax and benefit system hurts my head.
UPDATE: Some attention now being paid to the middle income families issue.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
About a week ago, I went to watch American: The Bill Hicks Story, at the Phoenix. I am an enormous Bill Hicks fan. Obsessively so. I think I have all the bootlegged concerts on my computer, and a DVD of rariety camcorder shows as well as enough official CDs and DVDs that I have basically all his material available in one form or another (there's a lot of recorded stuff from 1990-91 which is repeated on several shows, which I ususally refer to as his Drugs and Drink and Cigarettes and Porn set). I also have about three books - two biographies and a book of transcripts and scripts and other writings. So that's the background I took into this documentary.
First of all, it's a beautiful film to look at. There's the usual audio history going on in the background, but what the directors have done is taken still photographs and created pseudo-animated sequences to support the narrative. It's odd at first, but very quickly you stop even noticing that the still faces aren't moving in their animated environment. Very clever.
Secondly, where has all this new footage come from? There are several camcorder recordings which must go back as far as the early 1980s that I have never seen before. If a DVD comes out, the producers had better put the whole sets on as extras. There's some bits (about his father) which I'd never heard before which were used to accompany the section on his early shows. I don't think they are quite as old as that (he looks a bit older than 16) but it's not far off. Some of these early clips also show later material in an earlier form - like the fantasy about the grotesque death of woman that broke his heart seeing him on the Tonight Show as she breathed her last.
The best thing about the film, however, is they way everything is brought back to the comedy. With enough reading, you'd already know about the drug stories and the depths of his alcohol abuse and his tragic early death from pancreatic cancer. While all of these are important parts of the story, no-one dwells on the more sensational details, but instead uses them in partnership with recordings to show how they motivated what he was doing on stage. There's clips to show him drinking excessively on stage, clips about his growing dislike of governments (including from Hicks and Kevin Booth's trip to Waco in 1993), clips contrasting his raptorous reception in the UK (the huge rock and roll entrance of the Revelations show at the Dominion theatre) adjacent to the small audiences ("staring blankly back at me like a dog that had been shown a card trick) of a backwater comedy club in the US South. I like this because it feels like the best use of the documentary medium, and gives fresh insight into a topic I (and many other fans) already know well. I mean, I can read and re-read an autobiography of his life but only in a film can I really see the effect on his work. Very much recommended, for disciples and neophytes alike.
First of all, it's a beautiful film to look at. There's the usual audio history going on in the background, but what the directors have done is taken still photographs and created pseudo-animated sequences to support the narrative. It's odd at first, but very quickly you stop even noticing that the still faces aren't moving in their animated environment. Very clever.
Secondly, where has all this new footage come from? There are several camcorder recordings which must go back as far as the early 1980s that I have never seen before. If a DVD comes out, the producers had better put the whole sets on as extras. There's some bits (about his father) which I'd never heard before which were used to accompany the section on his early shows. I don't think they are quite as old as that (he looks a bit older than 16) but it's not far off. Some of these early clips also show later material in an earlier form - like the fantasy about the grotesque death of woman that broke his heart seeing him on the Tonight Show as she breathed her last.
The best thing about the film, however, is they way everything is brought back to the comedy. With enough reading, you'd already know about the drug stories and the depths of his alcohol abuse and his tragic early death from pancreatic cancer. While all of these are important parts of the story, no-one dwells on the more sensational details, but instead uses them in partnership with recordings to show how they motivated what he was doing on stage. There's clips to show him drinking excessively on stage, clips about his growing dislike of governments (including from Hicks and Kevin Booth's trip to Waco in 1993), clips contrasting his raptorous reception in the UK (the huge rock and roll entrance of the Revelations show at the Dominion theatre) adjacent to the small audiences ("staring blankly back at me like a dog that had been shown a card trick) of a backwater comedy club in the US South. I like this because it feels like the best use of the documentary medium, and gives fresh insight into a topic I (and many other fans) already know well. I mean, I can read and re-read an autobiography of his life but only in a film can I really see the effect on his work. Very much recommended, for disciples and neophytes alike.
Labels:
movie films,
the laughing at others,
things I'm pro
Monday, June 21, 2010
What I have done today:
1. Check email - three minutes.
2. Discuss Christmas holiday arrangement with colleague - two minutes.
3. Try to come up with a catchy title for a presentation: three hours, seven minutes.
This is the hardest thing about academia (easiest thing about academia: the spa days). What I want is about six words that suggests that my paper is both thrilling, yet insightful; meticulously researched, but definitely with car chases. The first problem is that my paper is on the labour market in the UK over the last thirty years - what jobs are disappearing (middle jobs income, routine task based occupations), why they are disappearing (computerisation) and where people doing them end up (words to do with mobility). This is not prime material for a catchy pun (play on words). In desperation, I tried to think of a song lyric or expression that might be tangentially related to this and what I discovered is that all of them have been used. A lot.
First attempt: "Stuck in the middle?" - a reference to noted popular music song 'Stuck in the middle'. This yields about 7000 results in Google scholar, ranging from the predicable (political science papers on countries bordering Russia and West Europe, sociological studies of middle management) to the less predictable (an article in a journal called, intriguingly, Fire Engineering) . I also found a paper called, "Tax Neutrality to the Left, International Competitiveness to the Right, Stuck in the Middle with Subpart F" (Keith Engel, if you ever Google your own paper titles, and I currently assume that you definitely do: Holla).
Second attempt: "Dude, where's my" and then something. There are 300 papers which are called, "Dude, where's my" and then something. Dude, where's my phenotype? Dude, where's my paradigm? Dude, where's my corn (possible subtitle: where's my corn, dude?). Even, Dude, where's my Black Studies Department? This is an actual book, although it may also be a page on Yahoo Questions.
Increasingly desperate attempts three onwards: "The more things change, the more they stay the same" - 3000 hits on Google Scholar (Including 'The use of popular cliches in academic paper titles: the more things change, the more they stay the same'). Next, "Moving on up" - 1200 hits on Google Scholar ("Movin' on up" has 600 hits, which tells me that for every three academics who have heard the music of M:People, two thought they could have been better). Finally, "Where have all the flowers gone? (where flowers are workers in routine task-based occupations and similar)" - no hits on Google Scholar, several hits on keyboard with own head.
So, anyway, this is the net result of my morning's work. Two paper titles. Firstly: The route out of the routine: jobs, wages and mobility in a polarising labour market. I love the 'interesting title: tedious exposition' format for academic papers. I want to write a paper called 'Punch in the balls: a study of fruit drinks at formal dinner and dance events'. The second one is called: "Calling time on the hourglass economy". Oh, by the way, there's a thing called the hourglass economy hypothesis, and I'm disputing it's importance. This is why this is clever. Both are original. Most importantly, if either are ever Googled by an up-and-coming young academic looking for ideas for a title of a new paper they will now see a link to this post. And, if they continue reading, they will also see this:
THESE TITLES ARE TAKEN. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT USING THEM. THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE.
AND, YES, THAT ALSO APPLIES TO THE FRUIT DRINK ONE.
1. Check email - three minutes.
2. Discuss Christmas holiday arrangement with colleague - two minutes.
3. Try to come up with a catchy title for a presentation: three hours, seven minutes.
This is the hardest thing about academia (easiest thing about academia: the spa days). What I want is about six words that suggests that my paper is both thrilling, yet insightful; meticulously researched, but definitely with car chases. The first problem is that my paper is on the labour market in the UK over the last thirty years - what jobs are disappearing (middle jobs income, routine task based occupations), why they are disappearing (computerisation) and where people doing them end up (words to do with mobility). This is not prime material for a catchy pun (play on words). In desperation, I tried to think of a song lyric or expression that might be tangentially related to this and what I discovered is that all of them have been used. A lot.
First attempt: "Stuck in the middle?" - a reference to noted popular music song 'Stuck in the middle'. This yields about 7000 results in Google scholar, ranging from the predicable (political science papers on countries bordering Russia and West Europe, sociological studies of middle management) to the less predictable (an article in a journal called, intriguingly, Fire Engineering) . I also found a paper called, "Tax Neutrality to the Left, International Competitiveness to the Right, Stuck in the Middle with Subpart F" (Keith Engel, if you ever Google your own paper titles, and I currently assume that you definitely do: Holla).
Second attempt: "Dude, where's my" and then something. There are 300 papers which are called, "Dude, where's my" and then something. Dude, where's my phenotype? Dude, where's my paradigm? Dude, where's my corn (possible subtitle: where's my corn, dude?). Even, Dude, where's my Black Studies Department? This is an actual book, although it may also be a page on Yahoo Questions.
Increasingly desperate attempts three onwards: "The more things change, the more they stay the same" - 3000 hits on Google Scholar (Including 'The use of popular cliches in academic paper titles: the more things change, the more they stay the same'). Next, "Moving on up" - 1200 hits on Google Scholar ("Movin' on up" has 600 hits, which tells me that for every three academics who have heard the music of M:People, two thought they could have been better). Finally, "Where have all the flowers gone? (where flowers are workers in routine task-based occupations and similar)" - no hits on Google Scholar, several hits on keyboard with own head.
So, anyway, this is the net result of my morning's work. Two paper titles. Firstly: The route out of the routine: jobs, wages and mobility in a polarising labour market. I love the 'interesting title: tedious exposition' format for academic papers. I want to write a paper called 'Punch in the balls: a study of fruit drinks at formal dinner and dance events'. The second one is called: "Calling time on the hourglass economy". Oh, by the way, there's a thing called the hourglass economy hypothesis, and I'm disputing it's importance. This is why this is clever. Both are original. Most importantly, if either are ever Googled by an up-and-coming young academic looking for ideas for a title of a new paper they will now see a link to this post. And, if they continue reading, they will also see this:
THESE TITLES ARE TAKEN. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT USING THEM. THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE.
AND, YES, THAT ALSO APPLIES TO THE FRUIT DRINK ONE.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Sorry that this blog keeps changing in appearance. After six years, I wanted to try something new, and whilst I liked the last template, the code was rubbish and their were loads of problems (like no dates) and I don't know CSS so I have now switched to this one.
I also figured it was time for a name change. My use of Frogg as a internet pseudonym has diminished in recent years - I tend to go simply by Craig on wrestling or music forums or ScowlinMonk on latex fetish message boards - and I've always liked Adult, Content as a title for something (it was going to be my autobiography) so that is now the way it is.
I also figured it was time for a name change. My use of Frogg as a internet pseudonym has diminished in recent years - I tend to go simply by Craig on wrestling or music forums or ScowlinMonk on latex fetish message boards - and I've always liked Adult, Content as a title for something (it was going to be my autobiography) so that is now the way it is.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
A story about last Monday that I want to remember.
There is a legend in the Imps, known by few. It's name is Lost in Alien. It is my all-time favourite improvised scene - loosely based on the films Lost In Translation and Alien, it remains the funniest thing I ever did on stage with Andy, featured the line "' I Will Survive' was your song?" and a thousand other bits of stupidity, and culminated in our first on-stage kiss. It was one of those moment where everything we said got a laugh and I felt like we were in complete control of the audience yet giddy with delight at the same time.
Last Monday was the last Wheatsheaf show I will do with Joe Morpurgo and Lucy Hamilton, two of the best improvisers I've ever had the privilege to perform with and (to the extent that anyone cares about it) two of the best human beings on the planet. I have had numerous great scenes with Lucy (including the only Imps scene I can remember that was done completely without words), she is so easy to be with on stage and I will miss her.
And now to Joe. To finish the the set off, we did a scene which could be entitled: Batman - by William Shakespeare. Everything started off normal enough - Batman (Joe) and Robin (Jim) talked in Elizabethan English to set the scene. At one point, Joe fires webs from his wrists - it later emerges that Batman has defeated everyone in Gotham City, and he had also eaten Spiderman. My cue to come in as the disembodied voice of Spiderman, from inside of Batman. The scene basically broke away from any semblance of a Shakespearean plot from then on, as the dysfunctional relationship between an increasingly irate Batman and an increasingly aggravating Spiderman played out.
Spiderman says "follow my lead", and Joe exits the stage, stomach first. Then: "What can you see, Batman?" "Nothing, it's dark". "Me too. We must be in the same place". Then: "Spiderman, I need your senses". "OK, I will use my sense of touch. It feels squishy. Are you somewhere squishy?" (Joe grabs his stomach in pain) "Use you sense of hearing. What can you hear?" "Digestion".
In the next scene Simon, as narrator came on, only for Joe and I to completely tear the Shakespearean structure to pieces and say goodbye to any plot for good, first correcting his failure to use sufficient plurals from offstage ("Can our hero..." "HEROES".), then making snide comments when he tries to please too hard ("Is it the Flies". "No, it's just the Fly. Keep up"), before finally breaking into a proper fourth-wall crushing argument between Batman and Spiderman ("Whose name is on this play?" "It should have been mine, until you ate me". "Well, did your film win any Oscars?"), until Joe tires of the whole thing and commits hari-kari to end it all - only to be met with "You missed me".
It was beautiful. Everything we said got a laugh. I felt in control yet giddy with delight, spurred on by occasionally glancing at all the other Imps on stage falling about with laughter. Joe was magnificent, spending most of the show on stage alone, talking to his stomach and slowly building up an impotent rage (all the while, I could corpse at will from off-stage).
Monday was one of the best shows I can remember in a long time. As a final act of the uniqueness that Joe brings, he got forty audience members on stage to join in the final song of musical, whilst reflecting out loud on three years of Oxford and love and life and everything. This is also the show that he ended Story Story Die with a rant on the Cherwell's predicable reviewing policy for any form of untraditional theatre. But above all of this, I am so glad that I'll remember my last Imps show with Joe for this: our Lost in Alien.
There is a legend in the Imps, known by few. It's name is Lost in Alien. It is my all-time favourite improvised scene - loosely based on the films Lost In Translation and Alien, it remains the funniest thing I ever did on stage with Andy, featured the line "' I Will Survive' was your song?" and a thousand other bits of stupidity, and culminated in our first on-stage kiss. It was one of those moment where everything we said got a laugh and I felt like we were in complete control of the audience yet giddy with delight at the same time.
Last Monday was the last Wheatsheaf show I will do with Joe Morpurgo and Lucy Hamilton, two of the best improvisers I've ever had the privilege to perform with and (to the extent that anyone cares about it) two of the best human beings on the planet. I have had numerous great scenes with Lucy (including the only Imps scene I can remember that was done completely without words), she is so easy to be with on stage and I will miss her.
And now to Joe. To finish the the set off, we did a scene which could be entitled: Batman - by William Shakespeare. Everything started off normal enough - Batman (Joe) and Robin (Jim) talked in Elizabethan English to set the scene. At one point, Joe fires webs from his wrists - it later emerges that Batman has defeated everyone in Gotham City, and he had also eaten Spiderman. My cue to come in as the disembodied voice of Spiderman, from inside of Batman. The scene basically broke away from any semblance of a Shakespearean plot from then on, as the dysfunctional relationship between an increasingly irate Batman and an increasingly aggravating Spiderman played out.
Spiderman says "follow my lead", and Joe exits the stage, stomach first. Then: "What can you see, Batman?" "Nothing, it's dark". "Me too. We must be in the same place". Then: "Spiderman, I need your senses". "OK, I will use my sense of touch. It feels squishy. Are you somewhere squishy?" (Joe grabs his stomach in pain) "Use you sense of hearing. What can you hear?" "Digestion".
In the next scene Simon, as narrator came on, only for Joe and I to completely tear the Shakespearean structure to pieces and say goodbye to any plot for good, first correcting his failure to use sufficient plurals from offstage ("Can our hero..." "HEROES".), then making snide comments when he tries to please too hard ("Is it the Flies". "No, it's just the Fly. Keep up"), before finally breaking into a proper fourth-wall crushing argument between Batman and Spiderman ("Whose name is on this play?" "It should have been mine, until you ate me". "Well, did your film win any Oscars?"), until Joe tires of the whole thing and commits hari-kari to end it all - only to be met with "You missed me".
It was beautiful. Everything we said got a laugh. I felt in control yet giddy with delight, spurred on by occasionally glancing at all the other Imps on stage falling about with laughter. Joe was magnificent, spending most of the show on stage alone, talking to his stomach and slowly building up an impotent rage (all the while, I could corpse at will from off-stage).
Monday was one of the best shows I can remember in a long time. As a final act of the uniqueness that Joe brings, he got forty audience members on stage to join in the final song of musical, whilst reflecting out loud on three years of Oxford and love and life and everything. This is also the show that he ended Story Story Die with a rant on the Cherwell's predicable reviewing policy for any form of untraditional theatre. But above all of this, I am so glad that I'll remember my last Imps show with Joe for this: our Lost in Alien.
I went to see Murder by Death last Wednesday, and, as before, they were fantastic. I love how they will play any song from any album - looking over set lists from previous shows, they mix up the new stuff, pick and choose the old stuff and play the entirety of In Bocco over the course of any three nights. That's a band there - there albums aren't three singles and a bunch of filler, but twelve immaculately crafted songs, each one telling a story and standing alone. The new stuff off Good Morning, Magpie sounds tremendous live - the title track is heart-wrenchingly sad, whilst Yes and Dark Streets Below rock along disguising their dark lyrics. And they played Those That Stayed as an encore, which was their classic encore song before, you know, they wrote so many songs they could mix it up. And the Big Sleep (now also played by me, every evening, to my wife's chagrin).
Truly, this band has spoiled rock music for me. As a guy who mostly listens to different forms of metal, there are few rock bands I really listen to, and none of them are anywhere near as good as Murder By Death.
By the way, there are hidden links to songs in this post, if you can find them.
Truly, this band has spoiled rock music for me. As a guy who mostly listens to different forms of metal, there are few rock bands I really listen to, and none of them are anywhere near as good as Murder By Death.
By the way, there are hidden links to songs in this post, if you can find them.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I listen to Radio 5 on my way to and from work, which means I get Nicky Campbell's call-in in the morning. Normally, of course, the opinions of people (all people) annoy me, but I remind myself that we live in a pluracracy and it's good to hear debate about important issues and most importantly, by the time I get to work, I've written a blog-post-rant in my head and I'm just sorting out the formatting and capitalisation of important words. Then, I sit down at my desk and remember that I have Paid Employment, so it will have to wait.
Not going to happen this morning, however. I don't know why the issue of choosing a baby's sex is getting some attention this particular week, but it is and that was the topic of the call-in. The point I entered the discussion was with a woman, who had lost a daughter (possibly miscarried) and wanted to have one through a gender selection procedure, and two men, who clearly felt she (and everyone else) shouldn't have that option.
Mentioning the caller's respective genders was intentional, and is probably the reason why I got angry enough to ignore Paid Employment for a few minutes more. The tone of the exchanges sounded (once refined through my brainfilter) very much like: "Okay, WOMEN, we MEN can no longer dictate to you whether you have a child or not. You have taken that power away from us. As a result, we are looking for new and increasingly petty ways to tell you how you may and may not use your body, specifically in the womenparts region."
Nicky Campbell did a decent job directing the debate, particularly when he drew the discussion to a close when it became a lot more aggressive. One caller actually suggested, behind a wall of faux disclaimers, that it was "sick" to attempt to use science in this way to deal with the loss as a kind of therapy. Others made the point that it was just a natural thing, that people didn't always get what they want, that having children was reward in itself, regardless of their sex, and that not all children develop into the gender stereotypes that anyone who wanted one or the other might expect (if you want a boy for the typical reasons, he might not be interested in playing football).
All of which may be fine for the people making those points (some of whom were female). However, it doesn't mean that the lady calling in, or anyone else who felt in a similar position, should be expect to similarly console themselves with it. Gender selection seems to me like a victimless scientific advance. In that I can't think of someone that gets hurt by it. It uses science. And it's an advance (also: a stepforward; an improvement and a conquering of obstacles). As a result, it should be a choice. If you're not fussed either way, or not comfortable with the idea, no-one will force you pick an X or a Y chromosone from a catalogue. If you are, well, now you can.
Final point. One of the later callers (try to guess what parallel he made by the end of this paragraph), who couldn't be cut off soon enough, made me conclude this: Godwin's law and its resulting rules needs to apply to non-Internet discussion as well.
And penalties for violating it should be harsh, just like the Nazis were.
Not going to happen this morning, however. I don't know why the issue of choosing a baby's sex is getting some attention this particular week, but it is and that was the topic of the call-in. The point I entered the discussion was with a woman, who had lost a daughter (possibly miscarried) and wanted to have one through a gender selection procedure, and two men, who clearly felt she (and everyone else) shouldn't have that option.
Mentioning the caller's respective genders was intentional, and is probably the reason why I got angry enough to ignore Paid Employment for a few minutes more. The tone of the exchanges sounded (once refined through my brainfilter) very much like: "Okay, WOMEN, we MEN can no longer dictate to you whether you have a child or not. You have taken that power away from us. As a result, we are looking for new and increasingly petty ways to tell you how you may and may not use your body, specifically in the womenparts region."
Nicky Campbell did a decent job directing the debate, particularly when he drew the discussion to a close when it became a lot more aggressive. One caller actually suggested, behind a wall of faux disclaimers, that it was "sick" to attempt to use science in this way to deal with the loss as a kind of therapy. Others made the point that it was just a natural thing, that people didn't always get what they want, that having children was reward in itself, regardless of their sex, and that not all children develop into the gender stereotypes that anyone who wanted one or the other might expect (if you want a boy for the typical reasons, he might not be interested in playing football).
All of which may be fine for the people making those points (some of whom were female). However, it doesn't mean that the lady calling in, or anyone else who felt in a similar position, should be expect to similarly console themselves with it. Gender selection seems to me like a victimless scientific advance. In that I can't think of someone that gets hurt by it. It uses science. And it's an advance (also: a stepforward; an improvement and a conquering of obstacles). As a result, it should be a choice. If you're not fussed either way, or not comfortable with the idea, no-one will force you pick an X or a Y chromosone from a catalogue. If you are, well, now you can.
Final point. One of the later callers (try to guess what parallel he made by the end of this paragraph), who couldn't be cut off soon enough, made me conclude this: Godwin's law and its resulting rules needs to apply to non-Internet discussion as well.
And penalties for violating it should be harsh, just like the Nazis were.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
It's actually a little difficult for me to write about Four Lions, which I watched last night at the Phoenix. It seems pointless to talk about how funny it was, given that the top half of the film poster consisted of about twelve different quotes of the single word "Funny" taken from various different newspapers and reviews. The jokes, by the way, are fantastic - in true Chris Morris style, they move between the dark and uncomfortable (Omar's Lion King allegory) through the intentionally provocative ("Jews invented spark plugs to control global traffic") to the absurd ("What we gonna blow up?" "Internet.") and the banal ("Is this a gesture?", says Barry, slowly running his car into a wall).
The other problem I've got is the urge to write things like "true Chris Morris style" (see above). Everyone knows his work will not so much push boundaries as it will repeatedly kick dirt at them until people can't tell where they once were. You go in with certain expectations. The last time I was left actually shocked to the point of breathlessness was during his Blue Jam series, when two parents discuss, in bored ambivalent tones, the disappearance of their child, the police finding the body and the inconvenience of having to deal with it ("Well, it sounds like he was buggered quite a lot and then strangled." "Oh. That's a bit much.") Yet, despite that bar, Four Lions managed to do it again. It is a film that is funny up to the point that it isn't, and when it isn't funny, it is stark and shocking.
I don't think the shocking is gratuituous, however, and that is where I generally draw the line. Without those moments (and don't read this next paragraph is you don't want to know about them in advance) the whole thing would be a farce. They'd be Sean Penn in the Assassination of Richard Nixon - clueless and deluded and impotent. With them, however, it becomes much more meaningful. It becomes clear that completing the bombings becomes the important thing, regardless of the actual damage done. They are no less ineffectual for being, in some way, successful.
The hardest thing about this film, but arguably the reason it is brilliant, are the moments where you are almost forced to sympathise with the bombers, especially Omar. He has a loving and devoted wife and child, yet the idea of his death is not a source of anguish and grief for them. I found Omar's coded goodbye to her at her job, perfunctory as it was with the police standing nearby, utterly awful to watch, as it should have been. There's no given justification for what he wants to do, and even his wife jokes that he as "more fun" when he was going to be a bomber. The absence of apparent motivation stops you thinking about them as heroes, however imperfect, and forces you to see them as the fools that they are.
There has been a lot of negative attention on the film, particularly coming from families of the victims of 7/7, given the close parallels. I think there is a difference between being offended and being upset. Such a person would of course be upset by the film - it's too close to a painful personal memory. That's not the same as the film being offensive. The only people that should be offended by this film are supporters of violent radical Islam, and I am completely OK with upsetting those particular sensibilities.
For a post that began with a concern that I might find it difficult to write about the film, I seem to have found enough to say. I should point out this post has taken several hours to write, in bits, because I'm still sorting out exactly what I think about it - another good thing. But I've picked over what I remember, and can't find anything disappointing, and clearly a lot that I thought was tremendous. Comments welcome, of course.
The other problem I've got is the urge to write things like "true Chris Morris style" (see above). Everyone knows his work will not so much push boundaries as it will repeatedly kick dirt at them until people can't tell where they once were. You go in with certain expectations. The last time I was left actually shocked to the point of breathlessness was during his Blue Jam series, when two parents discuss, in bored ambivalent tones, the disappearance of their child, the police finding the body and the inconvenience of having to deal with it ("Well, it sounds like he was buggered quite a lot and then strangled." "Oh. That's a bit much.") Yet, despite that bar, Four Lions managed to do it again. It is a film that is funny up to the point that it isn't, and when it isn't funny, it is stark and shocking.
I don't think the shocking is gratuituous, however, and that is where I generally draw the line. Without those moments (and don't read this next paragraph is you don't want to know about them in advance) the whole thing would be a farce. They'd be Sean Penn in the Assassination of Richard Nixon - clueless and deluded and impotent. With them, however, it becomes much more meaningful. It becomes clear that completing the bombings becomes the important thing, regardless of the actual damage done. They are no less ineffectual for being, in some way, successful.
The hardest thing about this film, but arguably the reason it is brilliant, are the moments where you are almost forced to sympathise with the bombers, especially Omar. He has a loving and devoted wife and child, yet the idea of his death is not a source of anguish and grief for them. I found Omar's coded goodbye to her at her job, perfunctory as it was with the police standing nearby, utterly awful to watch, as it should have been. There's no given justification for what he wants to do, and even his wife jokes that he as "more fun" when he was going to be a bomber. The absence of apparent motivation stops you thinking about them as heroes, however imperfect, and forces you to see them as the fools that they are.
There has been a lot of negative attention on the film, particularly coming from families of the victims of 7/7, given the close parallels. I think there is a difference between being offended and being upset. Such a person would of course be upset by the film - it's too close to a painful personal memory. That's not the same as the film being offensive. The only people that should be offended by this film are supporters of violent radical Islam, and I am completely OK with upsetting those particular sensibilities.
For a post that began with a concern that I might find it difficult to write about the film, I seem to have found enough to say. I should point out this post has taken several hours to write, in bits, because I'm still sorting out exactly what I think about it - another good thing. But I've picked over what I remember, and can't find anything disappointing, and clearly a lot that I thought was tremendous. Comments welcome, of course.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
We watched (500) Days of Summer, as heart-warming and delightful a film as I've seen since Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The story skips between different days from the beginning to the end of a relationship between the two main characters, Tom Hanson and Summer Finn, with each day numbered at the start of the scene. This was a cool little device, especially as they played around with it. Two scenes, far apart in days but similar in setting, are used to give little insights into the characters, like Tom's different feelings about the same memory of summer lying in bed, or his move from prodigously writing love messages to angry condolence cards. The shorter scenes were nice touches, especially in the midst of Tom's depression. One scene sees him yelling on a bus, and asked to get off. Later, there are two consecutive days shown in quik succession where he ignores his alarm; then a third scene, amusingly labelled 1/2 a day later, watches him leave a shop, unshaven, in his dressing gown.
What I really liked about this story is that although its about a failed relationship, it's not about a huge drama which ruins these two peoples lives. Rather, it says, simply, that sometimes relationships don't work out. This is striking in a film, where we are almost preconditioned to expect these things to go one way or the other: either they work out their differences and go off into the sunset, or their lives fall apart. For all the surreal moments of humour, the story here feels very real. I really liked the split scene bit, where Tom's imagined reunion with Summer at a party and the actual disappointing outcome are shown side-by-side. It would have been easy to have have the imagined scene stray into overly romantic fantasy: instead, the differences start off minor (Tom imagines a dinner party, rather than a gathering on the balcony) and the gap builds from there in a much more natural way.
Time isn't just a device in this film, although the careful arrangements of the different scenes out of chronological order adds a great deal. The main message is that life comes in phases, in episodes, and things rarely work out as planned because something surprising is just around the corner, a point emphasised by the final punchline. Funny, smart and touching. Oh, and the music is really great as well. Lovely.
What I really liked about this story is that although its about a failed relationship, it's not about a huge drama which ruins these two peoples lives. Rather, it says, simply, that sometimes relationships don't work out. This is striking in a film, where we are almost preconditioned to expect these things to go one way or the other: either they work out their differences and go off into the sunset, or their lives fall apart. For all the surreal moments of humour, the story here feels very real. I really liked the split scene bit, where Tom's imagined reunion with Summer at a party and the actual disappointing outcome are shown side-by-side. It would have been easy to have have the imagined scene stray into overly romantic fantasy: instead, the differences start off minor (Tom imagines a dinner party, rather than a gathering on the balcony) and the gap builds from there in a much more natural way.
Time isn't just a device in this film, although the careful arrangements of the different scenes out of chronological order adds a great deal. The main message is that life comes in phases, in episodes, and things rarely work out as planned because something surprising is just around the corner, a point emphasised by the final punchline. Funny, smart and touching. Oh, and the music is really great as well. Lovely.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I argued before that people needed to give Nick Clegg credit, rather than criticism, for trying to make a deal with the Conservatives. I believe that an agreement on a programme of government between them and the Liberal Democrats would best represent the country, and that the same people who argue for proportional representation needed to to acknowledge that it works both ways.
However, if an agreement can not be reached, then this ceases to be the case. Two parties that can't agree to a great deal and can't move on their own aims and those of the voters who supported them does not best represent the people. In such a case, an alliance of Labour and Liberal Democrats would be more representative of the country than a Conservative minority government.
Obviously, that isn't the only consideration, and the numerous media narratives that are currently going on show that their probably isn't one completely correct, iron-clad viewpoint. On one hand, many commentators have labelled the potential Lib-Lab government a 'coalition of the losers', whilst on the other hand, other have pointed out that the Conservatives are also not winners either. In fact, if you consider where the country was last year, when Labour managed 16% of the European election vote, you would have to summise that the Conservatives have taken quite a beating from the electorate too, whilst Labour did much better than expected. It's a confusing time.
Mainly, I think this is because the country at large is dealing with a new perspective on elections as the two-party system has fallen apart. A majority of people in this country voted for one of the two main left-of-centre parties. If they are the "losers", then we are essentially saying that the 36% who voted for the Conservatives are the winners, which is an odd mathematics at best.
I will say this though, as a trained economist. Screw the markets. I'm so sick of hearing about the "market's reaction to the uncertainty of a hung parliament". Firstly, it says a lot for our priorities when short-term market fluctuations could an important driver on much longer-term decisions. That's pretty much how the financial crisis started in the first place, and it's a psychology we need to lose. Secondly, the markets went down on Friday (uncertain government, failing Greece) and up yesterday (uncertain government, bailed-out Greece). One idea that presents itself to me is this: MAYBE IT'S FUCKING GREECE, YOU FUCKWITS.
However, if an agreement can not be reached, then this ceases to be the case. Two parties that can't agree to a great deal and can't move on their own aims and those of the voters who supported them does not best represent the people. In such a case, an alliance of Labour and Liberal Democrats would be more representative of the country than a Conservative minority government.
Obviously, that isn't the only consideration, and the numerous media narratives that are currently going on show that their probably isn't one completely correct, iron-clad viewpoint. On one hand, many commentators have labelled the potential Lib-Lab government a 'coalition of the losers', whilst on the other hand, other have pointed out that the Conservatives are also not winners either. In fact, if you consider where the country was last year, when Labour managed 16% of the European election vote, you would have to summise that the Conservatives have taken quite a beating from the electorate too, whilst Labour did much better than expected. It's a confusing time.
Mainly, I think this is because the country at large is dealing with a new perspective on elections as the two-party system has fallen apart. A majority of people in this country voted for one of the two main left-of-centre parties. If they are the "losers", then we are essentially saying that the 36% who voted for the Conservatives are the winners, which is an odd mathematics at best.
I will say this though, as a trained economist. Screw the markets. I'm so sick of hearing about the "market's reaction to the uncertainty of a hung parliament". Firstly, it says a lot for our priorities when short-term market fluctuations could an important driver on much longer-term decisions. That's pretty much how the financial crisis started in the first place, and it's a psychology we need to lose. Secondly, the markets went down on Friday (uncertain government, failing Greece) and up yesterday (uncertain government, bailed-out Greece). One idea that presents itself to me is this: MAYBE IT'S FUCKING GREECE, YOU FUCKWITS.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Due to numerous other time constraints, my film watching year hasn't really gone quite as planned. However, I've been watching at a steady rate of about one film every two weeks, and as soon as I'm back on top of work, I plan to motor through a lot more.
Films I have watched: 15
...of which are rewatchings: 2 (Da Vinci Code, The Prestige)
Films I have watched by the Coen Brothers (despite owning every single Coen Brother movie on DVD): 1
...of which were A Serious Man: 1
...of which were a comic masterpiece: 1
Films I have watched by Tarantino: 1
...in which Nazis were killed with reckless abandon: 1
...of which I loved: 1
Films starring George Clooney: 2
...of which seemed like less than the sum of the parts: 1 (The Men Who Stare At Goats)
...of which did not: 1 (Up In The Air)
New favourite films: 1 (Network)
Black comedies: 3
...of which seemed like they were written for me personally: 1 (Drop Dead Gorgeous)
Films that are good because of great solo performances: 3
...by a man: 2 (Up in the Air, The Assassination of Richard Nixon)
...by other (woman, etc.): 1 (The Reader)
We just watched Glorious 39, a British film set during the summer and autumn of 1939 which neither Cath nor I had ever heard of, but we picked up on a shopping trip earlier. It's about a wealthy family who are strongly linked to the government and a plot to make peace with Hitler rather than fight a war many believe unwinnable. I found this a really intriguing viewpoint on a period of British history generally associated with heroism and principle. The scenes about the suspension of habeas corpus and military detainment, and those about blackmail of opposing voices, focus on the uglier side of war, a theme extended in a more personal way by the mass putting down of household pets. The lead character, Anne Keyes, an adopted daughter of the family and actress, stumbles across recordings of the plot, which involves disposing of dissident voices within government, especially those who wanted to follow Churchill's much tougher line of anti-appeasment. Slowly, the plot reveals more and more people who are involved, who, perhaps predictably, are increasingly close to Anne, and her previously comfortable existence unravels.
The whole story is really engaging, with little details and twists added gradually, and the tension builds nicely. There are a number of scenes which seem slightly surreal, which added to the growing sense of unease as Anne becomes increasingly unsure about who to trust. That said, there were a few things which, at the end, were unsatisfactorily explained. Anne's escape, aided by her mother, is particularly confusing - her family, who want to keep her locked away to avoid her asking more questions, react warmly to her when they see her in the town. Cath say's its about public appearances, but it seemed strange to me. The presence of Walter, a boy whose older self tells the whole story in the present-day, provides a number of jarring moments as he appears, alone, unexpectedly - it emerges that he helped the family at times, but its not always clear why, neither does it become particularly clear who is involved in what parts of the plot.
That said, I suppose some confusion or unresolved issues in the story are needed - it's a conspiracy thriller, told by individuals not fully informed about the whole thing. Romola Garai was excellent portraying the mounting paranoia and terro of Anne, as was David Tennant's all to brief appearance as a outspoken MP and supporter of Churchill. I can't decide whether I liked Bill Nighy here - his character is so mellow, its hard to reconcile him with being a plotter doing unpleasant things for the good of his country. Then again, such jarring distinctions works in mirroring the doubt Anne increasingly feels with her familiar surroundings. Overall, a gripping and tense story, with minor fumblings.
Films I have watched: 15
...of which are rewatchings: 2 (Da Vinci Code, The Prestige)
Films I have watched by the Coen Brothers (despite owning every single Coen Brother movie on DVD): 1
...of which were A Serious Man: 1
...of which were a comic masterpiece: 1
Films I have watched by Tarantino: 1
...in which Nazis were killed with reckless abandon: 1
...of which I loved: 1
Films starring George Clooney: 2
...of which seemed like less than the sum of the parts: 1 (The Men Who Stare At Goats)
...of which did not: 1 (Up In The Air)
New favourite films: 1 (Network)
Black comedies: 3
...of which seemed like they were written for me personally: 1 (Drop Dead Gorgeous)
Films that are good because of great solo performances: 3
...by a man: 2 (Up in the Air, The Assassination of Richard Nixon)
...by other (woman, etc.): 1 (The Reader)
We just watched Glorious 39, a British film set during the summer and autumn of 1939 which neither Cath nor I had ever heard of, but we picked up on a shopping trip earlier. It's about a wealthy family who are strongly linked to the government and a plot to make peace with Hitler rather than fight a war many believe unwinnable. I found this a really intriguing viewpoint on a period of British history generally associated with heroism and principle. The scenes about the suspension of habeas corpus and military detainment, and those about blackmail of opposing voices, focus on the uglier side of war, a theme extended in a more personal way by the mass putting down of household pets. The lead character, Anne Keyes, an adopted daughter of the family and actress, stumbles across recordings of the plot, which involves disposing of dissident voices within government, especially those who wanted to follow Churchill's much tougher line of anti-appeasment. Slowly, the plot reveals more and more people who are involved, who, perhaps predictably, are increasingly close to Anne, and her previously comfortable existence unravels.
The whole story is really engaging, with little details and twists added gradually, and the tension builds nicely. There are a number of scenes which seem slightly surreal, which added to the growing sense of unease as Anne becomes increasingly unsure about who to trust. That said, there were a few things which, at the end, were unsatisfactorily explained. Anne's escape, aided by her mother, is particularly confusing - her family, who want to keep her locked away to avoid her asking more questions, react warmly to her when they see her in the town. Cath say's its about public appearances, but it seemed strange to me. The presence of Walter, a boy whose older self tells the whole story in the present-day, provides a number of jarring moments as he appears, alone, unexpectedly - it emerges that he helped the family at times, but its not always clear why, neither does it become particularly clear who is involved in what parts of the plot.
That said, I suppose some confusion or unresolved issues in the story are needed - it's a conspiracy thriller, told by individuals not fully informed about the whole thing. Romola Garai was excellent portraying the mounting paranoia and terro of Anne, as was David Tennant's all to brief appearance as a outspoken MP and supporter of Churchill. I can't decide whether I liked Bill Nighy here - his character is so mellow, its hard to reconcile him with being a plotter doing unpleasant things for the good of his country. Then again, such jarring distinctions works in mirroring the doubt Anne increasingly feels with her familiar surroundings. Overall, a gripping and tense story, with minor fumblings.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Well, there you go then. Not the night I thought we were going to have at all. I must say I felt very depressed watching late into the night, especially after Dr Evan Harris lost his seat. Caroline Lucas' win was the only really pleasing moment.
That said, I think Nick Clegg is doing the right thing, at least morally. I believe in a more proportional system of representation. I think a country that is split between different ideas is better represented by a compromise, and a Lib Dem-Tory agreement is the best way to represent the most amount of people (60% of all votes we cast for those two parties). Now, had Labour and the Lib Dems enough seats between them to form such a coalition, I may have a different opinion, because the scope for agreement is greater, so whilst the vote share is smaller, the actual policies might be more representative. But they can't do it. They didn't get enough support.
The anti-Tory sentiment seems to be encouraging people to urge Clegg not to support the Tories. Maybe it's nice for some people to believe that they can keep the Tories out for another term, fair or otherwise. These people need to grow up. Get more involved next time, fight harder for what you believe in and put your trust in whatever system we will have then. If it's undemocratic that the Lib Dems get far less power from their share of the vote, it is just as undemocratic to deny the significantly larger support for the Tories yesterday.
That said, I think Nick Clegg is doing the right thing, at least morally. I believe in a more proportional system of representation. I think a country that is split between different ideas is better represented by a compromise, and a Lib Dem-Tory agreement is the best way to represent the most amount of people (60% of all votes we cast for those two parties). Now, had Labour and the Lib Dems enough seats between them to form such a coalition, I may have a different opinion, because the scope for agreement is greater, so whilst the vote share is smaller, the actual policies might be more representative. But they can't do it. They didn't get enough support.
The anti-Tory sentiment seems to be encouraging people to urge Clegg not to support the Tories. Maybe it's nice for some people to believe that they can keep the Tories out for another term, fair or otherwise. These people need to grow up. Get more involved next time, fight harder for what you believe in and put your trust in whatever system we will have then. If it's undemocratic that the Lib Dems get far less power from their share of the vote, it is just as undemocratic to deny the significantly larger support for the Tories yesterday.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
I want to publically (in a fashion) thank Andrew Smith for being a good MP during the four years I have lived in this constituency, for replying to my letters, raising questions with his party's government and on occassion voing against them on matters of principle. In an ideal world, he'd have a safe seat and someone pointless like Blears would be losing her seat tomorrow. This is not, however, the way of the world, which is unfortunate because tomorrow I will be voting Liberal Democrat in the hope that this marginal seat changes hands.
I voted Lib Dem last time, and I guess they are my default position for most elections. Of course, they do not speak to my views exactly, so I do try to find a reason to support them more than any other party. In some cases, they don't go far enough (immigration, nuclear disarmament), and on others I just disagree (tuition fees, vocational training). However, of the three main parties, they are the only ones who I would trust to make expenditure cuts in the fairest possible way, to impose and cut taxes and to regulate our banks. They are strongest on civil liberties and have the track record to back it up. They share my progressive views on drugs and on crime, and have the longest standing environmental credentials.
Most importantly, however, I genuinely believe we have a chance, tomorrow, to forever change our electoral system. The more votes for the Lib Dems, the greater the imbalance in our first-past-the-post system will seem, the more unfair it will appear, the stronger the case for reform will be. I'm so tired of hearing how a vote for anyone other than Labour or the Conservatives is a wasted vote. If tomorrow marks the start of a long-overdue reform, no vote will ever be considered wasted again.
By the way, none of this is intended to influence anyone's vote, as if I had that power anyway. I just like recording things like this. I think it will be interesting to re-read them in thirty years time. However, I would echo Stephen Fry's call earlier to thoroughly consider the merits of re-electing Dr Evan Harris if you live in the other Oxford constituency. It is a tragedy that his intellect and uncompromising principles are an exception, rather than the rule.
I voted Lib Dem last time, and I guess they are my default position for most elections. Of course, they do not speak to my views exactly, so I do try to find a reason to support them more than any other party. In some cases, they don't go far enough (immigration, nuclear disarmament), and on others I just disagree (tuition fees, vocational training). However, of the three main parties, they are the only ones who I would trust to make expenditure cuts in the fairest possible way, to impose and cut taxes and to regulate our banks. They are strongest on civil liberties and have the track record to back it up. They share my progressive views on drugs and on crime, and have the longest standing environmental credentials.
Most importantly, however, I genuinely believe we have a chance, tomorrow, to forever change our electoral system. The more votes for the Lib Dems, the greater the imbalance in our first-past-the-post system will seem, the more unfair it will appear, the stronger the case for reform will be. I'm so tired of hearing how a vote for anyone other than Labour or the Conservatives is a wasted vote. If tomorrow marks the start of a long-overdue reform, no vote will ever be considered wasted again.
By the way, none of this is intended to influence anyone's vote, as if I had that power anyway. I just like recording things like this. I think it will be interesting to re-read them in thirty years time. However, I would echo Stephen Fry's call earlier to thoroughly consider the merits of re-electing Dr Evan Harris if you live in the other Oxford constituency. It is a tragedy that his intellect and uncompromising principles are an exception, rather than the rule.
Friday, April 30, 2010
This is exactly the sort of nerdishness I just can't enough of. FiveThirtyEight are, as far as I've experienced, the most thoughtful pollsters around (actually, they are complete statistics geeks) and last Sunday they released their latest UK model. First of all, they dispense with any assumptions of uniform swing, which means they are already further along than any other model being discussed. They use a full matrix of voting transitions from 2005 to 2010, and build in elements of tactical voting in each seat (that is, the shift from one party to another is more likely in close seats where the transition is to the second place party, for example). They also build in more regional variation, and things like incumbency advantage and shifts between voting and not-voting.
The current results are starkly different to anything else out there. Firstly, there is no chance, in this model, of Labour finishing first in seats with the third largest vote. The predicted seats based on the slowly stabilising vote share poll of polls position (Con 34, LD 28, Lab 27) give the Tories 100 more seats than Labour, although they would be short of a majority. The Liberal Democrats take 120 seats, 80 fewer than Labour. Because of the built-in larger swing between Labour and the other two in seats where they are more likely to win, the model penalises Labour more in terms of seats than, for example, the BBC's simple uniform swing model does. A Lib-Lab coalition doesn't have a majority either, although the margin is tiny.
Obviously, it's our quirky election system, so who really knows, and in a sense its just an academic exercise. But if this is close to what happens on Thursday, what a remarkable month it will have been.
The current results are starkly different to anything else out there. Firstly, there is no chance, in this model, of Labour finishing first in seats with the third largest vote. The predicted seats based on the slowly stabilising vote share poll of polls position (Con 34, LD 28, Lab 27) give the Tories 100 more seats than Labour, although they would be short of a majority. The Liberal Democrats take 120 seats, 80 fewer than Labour. Because of the built-in larger swing between Labour and the other two in seats where they are more likely to win, the model penalises Labour more in terms of seats than, for example, the BBC's simple uniform swing model does. A Lib-Lab coalition doesn't have a majority either, although the margin is tiny.
Obviously, it's our quirky election system, so who really knows, and in a sense its just an academic exercise. But if this is close to what happens on Thursday, what a remarkable month it will have been.
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