Working away from home

Written last night. No intenet access.

I used to be away on business a lot. I used to be seconded all over the country, but recently, since I had children, this has been less frequent. Last week I was drafted in to help get through a backlog of customer disputes. This means 2-3 days a week away from home, staying in generic hotel chains.

Don’t get me wrong; the breakfasts here at the Holiday Inn are great, but I have stayed in a couple of rooms now and they’re pretty indistinguishable. Rather like Big Macs. Of course these hotel chains are all the same, and to be honest, they’re not terrible value for money (even if Holiday Inn are at the top end of the generics).

Of course what I really miss is my family. Just a few days from the brood can seem like weeks. I phoned home earlier, but my little boy was too busy eating raisins to say much to me. I was devastated. Doesn’t he miss me? Of course he’s not two yet, and was probably pretty cheesed off I wasn’t around, or maybe he was wondering who this moron was on the end of the phone? Either way, the raisins were much more interesting.

The food is good. I just had some seafood pasta that was very tasty. But eating alone in a restaurant with only a laptop and a newspaper for company can be a very disheartening, especially when the newspaper is The Indi – which is, presumably because of yet another round of redundancies, becoming more and more like a home for cannibalised pieces from other news sources and commissioned articles from freelancers (i.e. hardly punctual). It doesn’t feel like a newspaper anymore. It doesn’t seem to hold together like The Guardian or The Telegraph, which have identity and a sort of cohesion that The Independent lost some time ago.

I used to like The Indi. It had a great international section that was an excellent brief for world affairs. But now if I want to read news from Asia I’ll go online and read The Asian Times, South China Morning Post, or Kommersant. Why would I read stale stories in the Indi, even if they were still there?

The Guardian, The NY Times, Monocle, The Atlantic, and The New York Review of Books have all the best comment, so what is the point of The Independent? Don’t-get-me-wrong, I don’t want to see the paper’s demise, but certainly a bit of vigour needs to be injected. Anyway, that’s enough about newspapers.

Tonight, no doubt, I’ll be alone in my hotel room watching Question Time and drinking tea, when I could be at home doing something useful. Like what I don’t know, but I’m sure there are exciting opportunities at home that I’m missing out on. A cuddle and a DVD would be heaven.

I shouldn’t complain of course. I’ll be honest, I have it pretty good. But a whinge once in a while is ok, isn’t it?

Iran’s dangerous mistake

I had a few minutes to spare so I checked out some hard-left opinion boards for their take on the Iranian detention of 15 British military personnel. Naturally they take the position that Britain is in the wrong and that the boats were in Iranian waters (even though the Iranian’s have changed their mind once on where the boats were).

The hard-left seem to have arrived at this position on the basis that Blair has past form as a liar, and pretty much everything we do is evil. Craig Murray, always a rational voice, agrees with the conclusion – if maybe not the hypothesis - claiming Iran is indeed justified: -

“In international law the Iranian government were not out of order in detaining foreign military personnel in waters to which they have a legitimate claim…

“For the Royal Navy, to be interdicting shipping within the twelve mile limit of territorial seas in a region they know full well is subject to maritime boundary dispute, is unnecessarily provocative.”

Really, so it’s the British who are being “provocative.” I must have missed a memo.

In fairness to Mr. Murray, this was written a few days ago, and has since blogged a response the British provided coordinates (which supposedly prove the Brits were in Iraqi waters). Murray argues: -

The Iran/Iraq maritime boundary shown on the British government map does not exist. It has been drawn up by the British Government. Only Iraq and Iran can agree their bilateral boundary, and they never have done this in the Gulf, only inside the Shatt because there it is the land border too. This published boundary is a fake with no legal force.

Hmmm. Surely the reversal of this argument, asking why Iran is detaining British personnel, who were not in legally defined Iranian waters, works too? If there is no legally defined border, this must help London as much as Tehran. So why Craig, are you finding reasons to side with such an intolerant and illiberal regime? I’m not playing the rightwing “us and them” trick I promise, but isn’t this just evidence of the proclivity of the left to side with any position contrary to that of the West?

Either way, it’s a rather repugnant situation. And the Iranians are reinforcing the belief of many in the international community that they are an insidious regime and a danger to stability in the region (yes, I am aware of the irony of a Brit accusing anyone else of destabilising the region).

Parading servicemen (and especially servicewomen) on television is a nauseating spectacle, but the Iranians are pretty cute at this, often forcing dissidents to repent on television. The Iranians have scored an own goal, and I can’t imagine Iran’s allies, Russia and China, are happy with the development. This is simply more evidence that the Americans can throw at the UN Security Council in light of future sanctions.

Tehran has dangerously overplayed its hand, and while there is little Britain can do to get their people back (short of a dangerous rescue attempt), Iran will rue this act of folly when the debts are called in.

That the Iranians have abandoned plans to begin releasing the detainees, based on supposed “wrong behaviour” by the British, is further evidence that Tehran is dangerously deluded as to its moral righteousness in this incident.

Tehran should know it is feeding red meat to the hawks in Washington.

So Mr. Miliband…

…does this mean you will stand against Gordo?

Oh please say it does.

David actually makes a lot of sense: -

The concentration of power in Westminster is as antithetical to our ambitions of a more equal society as is the concentration of power in the private sector.

Creating institutions closer to citizens, open and accountable to their communities, able to reconcile conflicts and competing demands, is the way to tackle the sense of powerlessness that can seem pervasive. That means we need to fight the instinct of bureaucracies and political parties to hold on to power. One hundred towns and cities with the leadership, confidence and power to lead British economic, social and cultural renewal should be our aim.

Although I’m not sure this represents value for money. However, in my immense munificence, I would be happy to offer ‘consultancy’ services to any MPs who are at a loss…

The false economy of cheap staplers

Some things that aren’t as good as they once were. One such item is the humble office stapler. Forget Curly Wurlys and Wagon Wheels, the one thing that has devolved the most over the years is the stapler.

Why do they (meaning the stationers and their Chinese minions) make such rubbish staplers nowadays? Or, more to the point, why does my employer buy such rubbish ones?

The amount of times over the past couple of weeks a staple has buckled at an angle (I’m doing a lot of photocopying and stapling at the moment), leaving the pages less than secure, is becoming a joke.

It has to be a false economy.

I suggest a small team should be given a one-year budget to do a cost-benefit analysis on staplers. It’s the only way.

Away again

Hello there.

I’m working down near London again for the next few days, so it’s unlikely I’ll be around to blog until at least Friday evening. Maybe I’ll get chance to write something on my laptop (and find a Wi-Fi hotspot), and maybe not. Hopefully I will.

I should work out how to patch my laptop through my cell phone. Or maybe I should buy a BlackBerry. I don’t know, but a free BlackBerry would be great hint, hint. What I’m not doing is paying for internet access at the hotel room, but we have already been there, haven’t we?

So please be good and try not to spam me with offers for free shit or sex aids – because of course I’ll not be around to clean the place up. Maybe I should get someone else to contribute to the blog, who may then share the spam-fighting duties. Not sure yet. I guess this blog has a particular political slant that other writers may not be comfortable with. Being Blairite - but anti-Tony Blair (in light of Iraq and general ministerial incompetence), is a pretty tricky position to nail down, hence why I do such a shoddy job of it myself. Anyway offers will be considered.

Being alone in a hotel room does have a tendency of giving one cabin fever, so I guess I’ll be exhausting the allotted expenses allowance. Any fellow bloggers who want to meet up for a beer, please drop me a line.

Silent StarWars

Not sure how many licensing infringements are committed here, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Dave the wolf

I was chatting to my brother-in-law, Matt, about politics last night.

He was reflecting on Cameron’s lead over Brown in the opinion polls, and how he has successfully repositioned the Tories into the centre of British politics. He has a point, but those of us with a more seasoned political eye know it’s all smoke and mirrors.

A quick glance at Cameron’s chosen posse is like perusing a who’s who of the hawkish right. Vaizey, Gove, Fox, Osborn, and Cameron himself are all Neocons to a man. All supported the war in Iraq, and, certainly in the case of Fox and Gove, remain ideological defendants of it. These are internationalist Tories who see the world in black and white: they are pro-American, pro-Israel, and pro-intervention. They believe that the ‘liberal democracies’ of the West must be defended at all costs; a commitment that includes ensuring continued American economic hegemony over the world (something that their very policies ensure looks increasingly uncertain).

Polls constantly inform us that a majority of the population is against the War in Iraq. So how can a prospective government, supposedly so in-tune with the people, possibly be committed to it? Easy. Just don’t talk about it.

A quick perusal of the American Press or a few minutes watching the Sunday political debate shows (such as Meet the Press), and you’ll quickly become aware that the US political scene is obsessed with the war and the incompetence of those who managed it. Democrats and Republicans alike, including many who initially supported the war, are queuing up to bash the president and his administration.

The only opposition Tony Blair has faced has been from his own backbenches and the increasingly incoherent Ming Campbell. The Tories may occasionally kick up a fuss about a lack of equipment, but when have you ever seen Blair really grilled across the dispatch box about the folly of following the Americans in the first place? It doesn’t happen.

The only reason Blair has been able to continue to follow an evermore rightwing foreign policy, to the immense chagrin of the electorate, is that the so-called opposition have cheered him on from the off. Any wonder that people are turned-off by politics?

As I said, Cameron’s lot are Neocons to a man; a position thoroughly at odds with their centrist pretensions.

Another notable deception the ‘New Tories’ have seemingly managed to pull off, is the pretence that they actually give a shit about the NHS and the working poor. This is a party that – only last year - asked Iain Duncan Smith and John Redwood, two of the most committed right-wingers to walk this Earth, to lead policy reviews.

Don’t believe these charlatans and their post-Blair triangulations. And certainly don’t swallow their compassionate conservatism mantra; that’s straight out of the Karl Rove playbook. They’re simply telling a jaded electorate what they want to hear. But hey, that’s just politics.

Cameron’s New Toryism: It’s all spin. Don’t buy it.

Eng-ger-laaaaahho… yawn

I’ll be honest. I couldn’t care less about the England national football team anymore. It’s not just Steve McClaren’s perceptible ineptitude, because I didn’t give a shit under Sven either.

We have possibly the best pool of talent the modern national team has ever had to choose from. Yes we could do with a naturally left-footed midfielder and a bit of luck with injured strikers, but when you look at it, we should be winning tournaments. Gerrard, Terry, Ferdinand, Rooney, and Joe Cole are world class. Add into the mix Carrick, Hargreaves, and the young Aaron Lennon, and we have a genuinely strong line up.

Yet, just a few minutes into last weekend’s game against Israel, I remembered why I just don’t care anymore: because it’s increasingly clear that the players themselves couldn’t give a monkey’s about the national side either.

tygerland revisited: Freud, Modernity, and the Fight Club

Due to my increasingly busy schedule, I’m unable to spend much time writing so I have decided to reproduce some of my better posts (or at least what I consider my better posts). The first revisted article is Freud, Modernity, and the Fight Club from May ‘06: -

I will disappoint a few readers here, but last night was the first time I saw the movie Fight Club (1999), starring Edward Norton and Brad Pitt. Long has the film been considered one of the best ‘lad’s movies’, tapping into the primal urges of the male-psyche, indulging in wanton violence and general mischief making – this observation is, however, simplistic to the point of facile ignorance. Fight Club is not about gratuitous violence, it is a millennial social commentary, which delves deep into the psychoanalysis of the main character, and by implication, the wider male population.

***Spoiler Alert - If you haven’t seen the film, stop reading now***

A quick review of informed reader comments, on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb), coveys a very cinema-centric view of the picture. Viewers tended to define the movie in the context of previous films, such as The Sixth Sense, American Beauty, and Trainspotting. Each of these comparisons is justifiable, however none mention (at least the ones I read) Sigmund Freud, or the discipline of psychoanalysis. This is bizarre considering the nature of the films narrative.

Read the rest of this entry »

Colbert: Impeach Bush

The Democrats are a bunch of pussies.

Recommended.

Think of poor Kenny

Kenny - a “bred by incest” white tiger

Meet the real captive-bred white tigers.

A sad state of affairs. Inbred, deformed, and unloved.

The lineup

I am going to write a book on my tenure as Pakistan coach. I shall only start after the World Cup… I believe, regardless of the money, the story is worth telling, has to be told and in the correct way. I am not a name and shame guy, just the honest facts. Let the punter make up his mind etc.

~ Bob Woolmer

Cricket in turmoil

Was Woolmer about to blow the lid on match fixing?

UPDATE: “my gut feeling is that there is still some kind of corruption in the game” ~ Michael Vaughan

UPDATE:

The murderer(s) was either someone Woolmer trusted or who he thought was properly coming to his room (room service, as it usually is in the movies). He was either drugged or the killer was an expert in hand-to-hand combat. It would seem to have been a very professional ‘hit’. I will leave the speculation there.

~ Political Empire

Falafel, mayo, and the £6-per-hr broadband

I have spent the last couple of days in Hertfordshire working out of our head office. Last night I stayed at the Holiday Inn in Aston Clinton, near the town of Aylesbury. It’s about 30 miles north of London.

The hotel was fine, even if the room was a little predictable. It had one of those featureless sofas that you only get in British hotels. You know the sort. Corduroy covered (or flowery canvas if you’re really unlucky), and almost exclusively in a hideous green. They are never quite deep enough to be comfortable, so you just sort of perch on them.

It had a TV with no 24hr news channel, an empty fridge, and a strange decorative ‘throw’ at the bottom of the bed. It was about 40cm wide, patented with flowers (what else?) and laid across like some sort of bed-scarf. I don’t do pointless decorative touches so I threw it in a corner.

There were also leaflets from the hotelier everywhere, even on my pillow (no chocolate though).

At 9 pm I was lying on my bed eating a Sainsbury’s falafel and houmous tortilla wrap. I decided this Greek-inspired snack was rubbish and hit the hotel bar. A pint cost £3.30. Is this how much beer costs now? I have no idea. I usually only drink beer on the continent, preferring wine or scotch here in the UK (unless it’s with a curry and then the cost gets lost in the bill). But £3.30 seems a bit steep to me for a pint of the Caffrey’s. I also ordered the house burger. Yes, I know it’s not healthy to eat a burger so late in the evening, but Mrs. tyger wasn’t around so I decided to indulge.

Why the fuck do they put mayonnaise on a burger? Don’t get me wrong, I like mayo; but mayo has its place. And that’s not on a burger. A chicken burger perhaps, but not beef, NEVER BEEF!

Relish, mustard, and even ketchup are perfect accompaniments for a burger. Just because a burger is dressed with a little lettuce and tomato, people feel compelled to pour mayo all over it.

Why?

Does one have mayo with one’s steak? No, one fucking doesn’t. So why the bejeezus do they put it on burgers? It makes me so unbelievably angry. I scraped the mayo off the beef patty and threw away the bottom half of the bun. I had a good mind to throw the soggy bread at the bastard who ruined the burger, but the ‘chef’ wasn’t to be found. Wanker.

Thoroughly pissed off at the mayo episode, I decided to grab my laptop and go online with the hotel’s Wi-Fi service. I pulled out my Mac and clicked on the browser. £15 for 24 hrs of ‘high speed’ Wi-Fi access. What the fuck? £15? I browsed through the options. It was £6 for an hour’s internet access. I’m sorry dear readers, I do love you all, but even you’re not worth £6 an hour. I expect a 20-minute massage and full sex for that sort of money (I know, I’m cheap).

The one thing they did offer FOC was a copy of the Independent. I hate the Indi. Ever since they went tabloid I find the whole experience utterly painful. The pages are chaotic compared to the elegance of The Guardian’s Berliner format. I spent 20 minutes reading the sports section, then got frustrated at an Op-Ed article and decided I’d had enough.

Drunk; I retired my room to listen to music on my iPod very loud.

The Budget echo chamber

Paul Linford heaps praise on the Chancellor.

Dizzy does the detail.

Iain pulls at the seems.

Mr. Power is sceptical.

And Snowflake is elated.