Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Margaret, Sue and Diana the geography mistress
I was ten when this aired on Nationwide in 1982 and, old duffer that I am, I remember it clearly. Just saw this show and thought it worth posting the clip. I think it shows the beginnings of a fearless dialogue with politicians. I love the look of almost uncomprehending rage in Mrs Thatcher about two minutes in, unused to being quizzed by such a well informed punter. No wonder Denis thought she was a put up job.
There is a certain something about Tories being interviewed pre 1997, and Mrs Thatcher captures it here. Never, never an admission of fallibility. I wonder if that has changed, or whether we could be heading back into that world.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Co-operating in Waltham Forest
Just in from Waltham Forest Co-op Party's annual general meeting where (blush, blush) I was re-elected vice-chair. We've got a really good team in place now and, with a relatively small number of members, are hoping to be able to build a presence in the borough.
The great thing about the Co-op Party is that we can work alongside some organisations which are making a real difference to people's lives, and try to get them better known. The Waltham Forest Credit Union is a great example - lending small amounts of money to people who can't get credit from the main banks, but also encouraging them to save too. A really good way to slowly build up a nest egg, while borrowing community money, the interest from which benefits the community. It's a great system. Maybe we should get Fred the Shred to join...
The great thing about the Co-op Party is that we can work alongside some organisations which are making a real difference to people's lives, and try to get them better known. The Waltham Forest Credit Union is a great example - lending small amounts of money to people who can't get credit from the main banks, but also encouraging them to save too. A really good way to slowly build up a nest egg, while borrowing community money, the interest from which benefits the community. It's a great system. Maybe we should get Fred the Shred to join...
Sunday, 15 February 2009
growing up
And one other before I hit the hay. This image was caught by my friend Justine. It's of the boy wonder's transitional object known as Patchy. He's chucked it to one side in favour of the Wii. Just a beautiful image really. And some great socks...
In praise of Mr Draper
Not particularly a political post. I just wanted to say that Derek Draper's had a rough week. Tory bloggers are after him, because he has finally provided an answer to them. He can actually call them out when they overreach, as Iain Dale did over Carol Thatcher, and Guido has done over his appalling commentators. That's quite a rare thing. In Derek we have a Labour personality, not a politician, and not an ex-insider who's only interest is spilling the beans (Lance Price). But someone who can put up a redoubtable defence, and set out a positive agenda, and not care too much about the brickbats that then come flying.
I know people are worried that Labourlist is just a vehicle for him, but just look at it. Look at the articles, the range of voices. Derek has to be front and centre, it's a good thing because it means the site is taken seriously.
To coin a phrase 'there are 17 bloggers that matter in the Labour Party, and to say that I know all of them would be an understatement.'
Sorry...
I know people are worried that Labourlist is just a vehicle for him, but just look at it. Look at the articles, the range of voices. Derek has to be front and centre, it's a good thing because it means the site is taken seriously.
To coin a phrase 'there are 17 bloggers that matter in the Labour Party, and to say that I know all of them would be an understatement.'
Sorry...
No title
Mick knows where the dead go.
He followed them abruptly,
From that hawthorn field corner
Hot and quiet and smelling of pain.
Looking now you see the Somme or Ypres.
Fertile ground with death overgrown
And moments of violence blurred away
With grass and hedge and hoe.
They speak of place memory;
Of an imprint in nature of some violent act
But in the corner of that forever field
Lark calls, and the sway wind takes on.
He followed them abruptly,
From that hawthorn field corner
Hot and quiet and smelling of pain.
Looking now you see the Somme or Ypres.
Fertile ground with death overgrown
And moments of violence blurred away
With grass and hedge and hoe.
They speak of place memory;
Of an imprint in nature of some violent act
But in the corner of that forever field
Lark calls, and the sway wind takes on.
Bob Bob Ricard
Apparently AA Gill didn't like BBR, where I took the Nip for a Valentine's Day dinner on Friday 13th. He was extremely rude about the staff, and very curmudgeonly about pretty much everything else.
I'm going to be a lot more polite about the place than that, but not entirely sure I'll be heading back either with clients or the bevvy of sophisticates that make up my salon. That's the era they're going for at BBR. Rich socialites in ermine stoles, cigarette holders poised elegantly. But in recessionary Soho it looks out of place. The champagne button on the table looks forlorn, as if it might have been well used in 1933 and 1983, but not had much action since. I'd feel a bit weird about pressing a button like that at the moment. I see the spectre of the Prime Minister hovering above me wearing a frown. But that's just me.
Basically, BBR. Looks fab. The staff were trying to be nice "Hello Simon!"... then to a waiter "Ten" (shit - was that points out of a hundred?). I was ushered to my table. I quite like the pink waistcoats of the staff and the good looking types wafting around the place. Not enough to make your heart soar (Ben) but OK. My issue is with a £23 steak that was really ordinary. And £7 ice cream that was three weeny blobs in a perspex bowl. Having said that the salted caramel ice-cream is incredible, and that rescued things a bit.
But £166 for two, three courses, one bottle? Hmmmmm. Not convinced. Classy but it's no Salt Yard (which has yet to be bettered in my book).
I'm going to be a lot more polite about the place than that, but not entirely sure I'll be heading back either with clients or the bevvy of sophisticates that make up my salon. That's the era they're going for at BBR. Rich socialites in ermine stoles, cigarette holders poised elegantly. But in recessionary Soho it looks out of place. The champagne button on the table looks forlorn, as if it might have been well used in 1933 and 1983, but not had much action since. I'd feel a bit weird about pressing a button like that at the moment. I see the spectre of the Prime Minister hovering above me wearing a frown. But that's just me.
Basically, BBR. Looks fab. The staff were trying to be nice "Hello Simon!"... then to a waiter "Ten" (shit - was that points out of a hundred?). I was ushered to my table. I quite like the pink waistcoats of the staff and the good looking types wafting around the place. Not enough to make your heart soar (Ben) but OK. My issue is with a £23 steak that was really ordinary. And £7 ice cream that was three weeny blobs in a perspex bowl. Having said that the salted caramel ice-cream is incredible, and that rescued things a bit.
But £166 for two, three courses, one bottle? Hmmmmm. Not convinced. Classy but it's no Salt Yard (which has yet to be bettered in my book).
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Great views
I didn't get any pics so I'm going to let Flickr do my job for me.
As I was trolling through Covent Garden last night, looking like a clown in my DJ I saw four sights that made my heart soar.
I looked through the Garrick Club windows as darkness fell.
Then looked up and saw this
St Martin in the Fields was looking fabulous
and finally this - totally magical.
Next time I really should remember the camera...
As I was trolling through Covent Garden last night, looking like a clown in my DJ I saw four sights that made my heart soar.
I looked through the Garrick Club windows as darkness fell.
Then looked up and saw this
St Martin in the Fields was looking fabulous
and finally this - totally magical.
Next time I really should remember the camera...
Vince at the Reform Club
On with the black tie last night for a political dinner at the Reform Club. Vince Cable did a turn and the audience was hanging off his every word - amazing how distance from power makes you a positive guru. As soon as you don the mantle of authority you become strangely suspect. I wonder if that's just a British thing.
Anyhow I asked Vince whether he'd consider being Chief Secretary if asked. He said no, but clarified the shifting relationship the Lib Dems have with their stance on coalition government. He said that currently the LDs would be prepared to go into coalition with either side in the event of a hung parliament. Presumably this is would be qualified depending on the circumstances, but it did show that the party has moved a long way to the right from the days of Kennedy.
A Lib Dem / Tory coalition. The very thought sends a long shiver down the spine. I still think Vince is one of ours at his core.
Anyhow I asked Vince whether he'd consider being Chief Secretary if asked. He said no, but clarified the shifting relationship the Lib Dems have with their stance on coalition government. He said that currently the LDs would be prepared to go into coalition with either side in the event of a hung parliament. Presumably this is would be qualified depending on the circumstances, but it did show that the party has moved a long way to the right from the days of Kennedy.
A Lib Dem / Tory coalition. The very thought sends a long shiver down the spine. I still think Vince is one of ours at his core.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Keep calm and carry on
You'll have seen this poster which did a double back flip through cool a few months back and is verging on the mainstream now.
The English red. The crown. Keep calm! Carry on! Words that speak to the heart of us lot, who still on occasion have upper lips stiff. What I didn't know was that, in the dark Chamberlain-led hours before WWII, two million of those posters were run up, ready to be plastered on billboards up and down the country. As the first air-raid sirens wailed our forebears would be made resolute with this simple message at their backs.
But a change in view, a shift in policy, a feeling that this didn't need spelling out must have occurred. The poster was never used, was pulped, and a copy found a few years back. And now it's gone viral - loads of people love it. It speaks to us.
Almost 70 years on that poster is doing what it couldn't do in 1939. Speaking to our better nature. Firming up the upper lip. Keep calm. Carry on.
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