AV or not to AV

AV - Not what you can do for your political party, but what you can do for your democracy

The argument is now over, and all the parties can do is look at the fall out from the campaign and decide what must be done next, in fact many of the politicians have been doing this before the first vote had been cast such is the political machine. I have to point out that I voted for AV as it seem logical that if someone is going to get his snout in the trough at my expense then they had better been elected by over 50% of the electorate - and while I am on the subject of the electorate let me say that I think there should be compulsory voting - but that is another argument!

Listening to the debates, well the sound bites really as we don't debate lofty ideas in this country as much as throw soundbites around like confetti until enough sticks (ooh nearly mixed a metaphor there!), it was obvious the vote was about politics. For some it may be strange to think of the AV issue as being anything but politics, but surely it should be about something higher that, perhaps it should have been about was fairer, what enshrined the ideals of democracy and not about what was best for one political party or another.

The argument has been about self-interest, and not the greater good, and the debate has degenerated into mud slinging between Cameron and Clegg, with Millliband attempting to play 'honest''. I suppose the idea of a politician playing honest is unfortunately a misnomer but the media has portrayed both parties as self serving; and lets face the LibDems will be consigned to limbo for the next 20 years, they have had one glorious year in the sun, to bask in the media spotlight and play their 'ace in the hole' - but their day is over, and their chance evaporating with each vote cast.


The debate, and I use the word 'debate' as a metaphor for what for what happened, was not lofty it was crass and self-seeking, if you want to see what a reasoned arguement looks like I refer you to the State Legislature of Massaschutess on whether marriage should be defined as being solely between and a man and a woman. I was amazed when I saw the clip on U Tube, here was a man arguing rationally about why this should not be so, we were taken from point to point, with recognition of the opposing argument and with the conclusion that the listeners, in private, should reflect on their views. The presentation was was an object lesson in serious people talking about serious issues- and proof that the 'ya-boo' politics which has marred the discussion of serious issues for the past 50 years.

Again I bring my blog back to the question 'what was the best outcome for democracy and not was the best for politicians .

Perhaps it is time we all asked 'not what can your country do for you' but what you can do for your country.


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No Flags Please

I am a Miners son, you remember the Miners I suppose, those people who did dangerous work and spent most of their lives buried alive, I come from Sheffield where heavy industry reigned – my mother was a ‘Jolly Buffer’ (someone who polished knives) and we made steel, we were fiercely Socialist but also Royalist – I never worked out the contradiction I just accepted it -  I was brought up my Grandma who was adamant that ‘Royalty’ had special blood in them – no dirty jokes please, at least not in the same sentence as my Grandma!

We adored the Monarchy, they were special and they did add colour, and I think were above politics and this is something that people who do not have a Royal Family can fully understand, and I would defend them; I actually like that our national anthem celebrates a person and not the country.  They are the personification of noblese oblige.  So with all this indoctrination why am I not waiving my flag on 29 April 2011?

It started a year ago when I began to realise that the wedding seems ‘convenient’ to shore up an unpopular government, I believe it was suggested a wedding in April 2011 would be good after we have slashed social services, give the plebs something to take their minds of the real issues – bread and circuses and all that.

 Then there was the thing about the ‘cheers in the Cabinet’ when it was announced - it just sounded so ... Tory (God Bless their gracious majesties, forelocks touched and medal shone!), I have this image of a scene from the ‘Planet of the Apes’ with the Gorillas and Chimpanzees jumping up and down on the table, and swinging from the chandeliers - rather disturbing.  

The guest list to the wedding is the he good and great, the despicable and morally corrupt, everything the Republicans hate about the Monarchy, they couldn’t invite Gordon Brown and Tony Blair because they were not ‘Knights of the Garter’ but can invite the ambassador of Uganda who’s country nearly passed a law issuing death sentences to people living with HIV, and only at the last minute have we rescinded the invite of the Syrian Ambassador, but still the Ambassador of Zimbabwe, North Korea and Iran will be there, but not our former, democratically , elected leaders – this is just plain wrong!  Seeing Cameron and the Cabinet, dressed in their aristocratic monkey suits, is just nauseating.  It is just an exercise in power and privilege.

Funnily enough the people protesting against the war in Afghanistan and Iraq are not allowed to protest because they are obstructing the pavement, but people who can camp out for five days to wave their flags.  

The wedding is an exercise of privilege and political spin and I'm not waving my flag

Please like me, I want to be your friend ...

Looking at my daily Twitter stats I get dismayed when I get unfollowed, sometimes even when it is a 'spambot', it as if I am being rejected, that I am not popular anymore; the same with Facebook when I look at the 'De-Friended' App on my iPhone - I am less loved, I am less interesting, I am devalued.
But why?

It seems to me that we live increasingly by what others think of us, and derive our value from others opinions of us, the juxtaposition is that the people I admire did not, and do not, outwardly give a tinkers curse about what others thought of them, other than that they had sense of 'doing right' and being true to themselves.  This global and technological insecurity is further articulated by the advertising, the slimming plans, the 'lifestyle' models we are given; our identity is more and more mediated by capitalism and by social networking rather than an sense of individual identity.

Being an openly gay man, from South Yorkshire there are all sorts of tensions going on in my head, my political beliefs about social justice, and doing what is right (thanks to my Grandmother the Church I went to!) and also about taking a stand - well in 'my day' being gay was a political statement and not a lifestyle choice. Being a socialist and gay do inform each other, we should judge less, forgive more, and tolerate and embrace culture, but this is being constantly mediated by how many Facebook friends I have, or have not.

It's true we all derive, and strive for, affirmation from our peer group, but with Facebook and Twitter (and I suppose all other social network sites) our peer group is now extended, not unlike an extended networked family, in an age when the biological family is contracting - no more 300 guests (and the village) at the wedding now - or are we trying to recreate that familial extension with strangers.

My goal, which I seem to have relented on, is to create my own identity; being gay is part of my identity but not a big part, being a socialist is more part of it now, and now I am trying to adapt into all this being a 'partner' and with the savage cuts being a little more political (which so far as amounted to drinking Cocktails with friends on Hoxton!); there is no ready made identity for me, for any of use, and I must contintually construct it under the spotlight of the internet (if I so choose).  Somehow I am going to have to accept that not everyone is going to like that the construction, c'est la vie!

To end, abruptly I know, I want to leave you with something Woodie Guthrie said 'the problem is that you are too old, too young, too fat, too thin ...'

The Miss Marple Railway

January 26 Wrexham & Shropshire Railway ceased trading, the day it was announced that it had the highest customer satisfaction rating of any other Train Operating Company at 96%

We all feel upset at people losing their jobs, this was a double tragedy because this Train Operating Company and its staff really showed the rest of the rail industry how to ‘do’ customer service, it was a showpiece of what can be done, what we can do, and what we need to do. It was a quality operation from the refurbished elegantly simple Coaches to its toilets. 

The company was an example of how railways should be done, and what can be done when someone wants quality, not only was the quality of the rolling stock exceptional – the toilets were clean and modern and light, a strange thing to concentrate on but a basic of rail travel – the interiors were clean and well thought out, even to the horizontal power points; the simple grey/silver scheme that wreaked of class and created a relaxing atmosphere and more than perhaps anything the large picture windows so you could see the countryside rolling by, a journey not a commute.  Standard Class was to such a high standard that I had to ask if I was I was in Standard or First Class, the only other time I have had to do this was on a German ICE train.  The coaches Wrexham & Shropshire were using we built nearly 30 years old but refurbished to an exceptional standard that outshone the big boys of the railway such as West Coast or East Coast, and these companies are playing in the £100 millions league.  

No plastic seats, no small pokey windows, no narrow aisles, but good old fashioned coaches.

But a quality railways is more than its coaching stock, it is more than anything else its people, and they were quietly efficient getting the job done professionally and being friendly at the same time. 
These guys should be getting awards for their service not their P45’s.
 
A friend called the Wrexham & Shropshire the ‘Miss Marple Railway’ and so it was, with a standard of service that is has long since disappeared, and will probably never return, courteous yet efficient and dignified yet friendly; the ‘Miss Marple Railway’ tag was not a slur it was compliment.

Wrexham and Shropshire were a victim of a process that expounds competition, yet this company, it has been argued by rail commentators,  was not allowed to compete at Birmingham New Street, Snow Hill or Coventry where the quality of service far surpassed that of Chiltern Railways (a good operator) and Virgin West Coast – this company would have been turning people away but they were not allowed to compete fairly, having to take the scenic route, stopping in out of the way places like some sleepy backwater railway but with the ability to be mainline through and through.

It seems in the UK that quality is not rewarded.

Today, 26 Jan, it was reported that a W&S train ran to all booked stations and the Driver got out at each station and explained that the company has been closed and he couldn’t take any customers because the company had folded, a class act!

So this Christmas ?

So this is Christmas, , and what have you done, another year over and a new one just begun And so this is Christmas,I hope you have fun, the near and the dear ones, the old and the young

Words that echo through out the years from a young, naive sprig of lad looking on Princes Street at bright lights of Edinburgh, looking in awe at how big the world was as if that moment was a pivotal point in my life that I must return to each year. As type I can feel the cold of that evening when I heard the words of John Lennon waft through the air as clear as glass (or noticed it). I return to the innocence of that youth when the world was so very simple, right was right and wrong was wrong and people were class heroes or traitors, I return not because I am depresed, but rather as a measure of where I am in relation to that scared young lad who was afraid of nothing (don't you just love contrtadictions) - a touchstone if you will. It is a fixed point in time, and I wonder if I will ever say goodbye to that lad, I wonder if I can ever recapture the good of that time, I do not get depressed at Christmas, but most years it is something I have to endure along with many other people - so why do I do it each year, why not just opt out, well because ..... well I love Christimas, there is so much more that I love about Christmas than I hate about it, I love the people aspect of it all, the chaos and coming together of it all, the shared experience of an enforced closure sometimes I wish we could make it Christmas every day, yet something I wish could be avoided.

Yes it is Chrismas again, and no matter how hard I try staring it down each year it comes, swiftly and wiith a vengence; normally it is this time of year (22nd December) I decide that Chistmas has won again and I just capitulate and accept that I will be writing grovelling letters and emails to peope who will not get a Christmas Card (again!) and scurry around for some presents that may be appropriate for people, or at least will not be offended with (yes I know I am male and this is only to expected and the fact that I am starting this process on 22nd December indicates I must be gay!) and then try and wrap presents, which always looks like I have spent about 39 seconds trying), eventually I force myself to visit the 'ex' to deliver his present. In my defence I do start planning Christmas around October into November, it just that it seems too early to buy presents and send cards in early December!

Anyhow I am on the move and just doing a 358 mile round trip to deliver presents and Mince Pies to my `ex` who has moved to Manncheser (I live in Swindon), but this is the fun bit, this is the bit I love, this is when Christmas! is fun, to see a swaithe of the population displace themselves iin a act of love and compassion for the people they hold dear ad close, I love the communal sense of expectation and adventure we take ourselves out into the realm of the social, and onto the realm of the 'other'- of other people and other lives, aand other

I have just arrived at Biirmiingham International and the train will empty with the travellers hopiing to leave for the season,and more people will join for their journey towards Manchester the human traffic the same every year, just different faces and different stories, all together for a celebration of something that most do not beleive in, but the zeitgeist more than compels them to celebrate the birth of the Christ child.

To see the hoardes of men, women and children migrate from their familiar surrounding for a few days (and obviously the reserve) says to me Christmas has come in! To me it s almost as if the population is re-enacting the Nativity, the displacement of Mary and Joseph (either the historical or cultural figures depending on your viewpoint) from their home, with the all the issues of logistics, finance, and accommodation. The parallels go on in Berthelem, now almost a internment camp, of the fear that must of have there at that time, the vioilence, the belligerent regime that is there this Christmas, but then again that is politics, and politics will always be here with us and not the place in this blog.

So this is Christmas, and what have done …

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Three Minutes ...

It occurred to me once whilst I was World War 2 enactment last year that during the 'minute’s silence' (reflection on the irony of this event must be the subject of another blog!) that I had done this before.

The first time was for the 7/11 bombing in New York, I was on Victoria Station and at 11am Clock it just went silent, a few people carried on walking, but the bustling station just 'stopped' and it was as if the world had stopped just for a minute, a look of disgust given to those who were 'too busy' - and it was literally just one or two – how carried on walking and chatting because they were just too busy, on unconcerned about the moment. A time to reflect and a time to think about what had happened, a 'stop' as we considered the enormity of the devastation and the tragedy; a downloading of the horror of the event, a pause in the daily intake of information The silence was the same as that for the eclipse in 1999, a deathly hush that swept all before it

The second time was the death of the Queen Mother, a time of respect and of the events that had transpired in her life, two wars, marriages, divorces, bombing, and death, a time to mark the passing of the era. It was almost a moment to mark the passing of an era that had died with the Queen Mother, never to be regained again in a world that had raced on, where social hierarchy was based on breeding not wealth, that beggared respect for elders and ladies, that was polite was deferred to others, to the new one of ‘me’ and myself. One girl in the office, too young to remember the ‘old ways’ asking 'what are you supposed to think about' during the silence, again this was on the railway, and it stopped.

The third was last 'Armistice Day', and I stood silently at my desk I noticed that I was the only person, to some people the time had slipped by, busy in the moment, and in my job that in understandable, to others it seemed that the photocopying was more important. It was a moment that slipped by, unnoticed, the flow of information rushing all over, the minute lost.

A minute, 60 seconds, this time should be inconvenient, awkward, significant, it should make us stop for a minute, 60 second, to stop, ingest, and be a point in our day that is surrounded a constant rush, a moment to consider our priorities, our outlook, and remember.

One minute, sixty seconds ...