BOOKS
GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN, by James Baldwin. The children of a hellfire preacher in early 20th century New York struggle to emerge from his shadow. However, the pious one hides a dark past of his own. Absolutely amazing tale of belief and hypocrisy in a black family in the post-slavery era. The climax, where the preacher's son experiences his own great epiphany is one of the great passages in American literature. Stunning.
AGENT ZIGZAG, by Ben Macintyre. A charming spiv is arrested in Jersey just before the German occupation and finds himself recruited into their secret service. But he intends to betray them and work for the British as a double agent. One of the most famous of wartime spy stories, the exploits of Eddie Chapman have become legend. Ben Macintyre's book does a careful job of deconstructing the myths and highlighting the facts, some of which have only recently entered the public domain.. And they're extraordinary enough by themselves... Readable.
FILMS
DESK SET (1957) D-Walter Lang. A time-and-motion specialist is brought in to install a computer in an office building. Naturally the computer cocks up hilariously... Another vehicle for the Tracy/Hepburn team, which by the late 50s they had refined to a supremely comfortable level. For me, the film is a little pedestrian, but the colours, the sexual politics and the dress-codes reminded me more of Mad Men than anything, and if nothing else showed just how much work they did to make that series look totally authentic. An historical relic.
JOE KIDD (1972) D- John Sturges. In 1870s south Texas, an unscrupulous landowner (Robert Duvall) prepares to exterminate the Mexicans whose lands he has appropriated. He hires Clint Eastwood to help carry out the killings, but then Joe goes native and fights for the Mexicans instead... By 1972 Clint was carrying all before him and indeed had just directed his first, highly successful feature (Play Misty for Me). He was therefore big enough to wait for the best roles, and Joe Kidd is definitely one of them. Highly watchable.
THE BEST EXOTIC MARIGOLD HOTEL (2012) D- John Madden. A crew of British ex-pats descend on a sort of retirement community in India. Their ability to cope with the culture clash varies considerably... This is the sort of thing we do well, and with the excellent Bill Nighy on board how can we lose? Rather easily, as it turns out. Judi Dench does her usual frowny thing in quite a small role which still somehow is marketed as the film's biggest attraction. The result is light and sadly, rather inconsequential. Disappointing.
EDGE OF THE CITY (1956) D-Martin Ritt. A troubled young man (John Cassavetes) lands a much-needed job as a New York stevedore, but soon finds complications. By chance he makes friends with a black docker (Sidney Poitier, in an early, brilliant performance). Also known as A Man is 10 feet Tall, this film demonstrates with devastating clarity that Martin Ritt is one of the greatest of Hollywood directors, not just from the point of view of his technical prowess, but also because of his finely tuned social conscience and acute eye for human character. Absolutely brilliant. I know it's only January, but this could be my film of the year.
LAS ACACIAS (2011) D- Paulo Georgelli. A trucker en route from Asuncion in Paraguay to distant Buenes Aires picks up a hitch-hiker with her baby. After a faltering start, their relationship gradually blossoms. Simply made (and I mean that as a compliment), understated piece which nonetheless arrests the attention of the viewer. Superior.
BIG MIRACLE (2011) D- Ken Kuapis. An oil company wants to drill in the high Arctic. There an exploration team finds a family of whales trapped under the ice. Sensing a publicity coup, the company allows a rescue attempt to be mounted. Soon everyone, even the hated Russians (it's set in the cold war era) get in on the act. Rather enjoyable piece of light-weight hocum.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN (2010) D- Lynne Ramsay. A young man's middle class parents are a bit worried about about his geekish tendencies, but they have yet to discover it's far, far worse than that... Tilda Swinton gives her usual strong, compelling performance as a mum who senses something's wrong with her son, but can't work out what it is. Scary.
TRIPLE CROSS (1967) D- Terence Young. The film of the book (Agent ZigZag I mean). Sort of. The book reviewed above only came out in 2007 when much more had been revealed to the public gaze. This film should have been great: Christopher Plummer chose to take the lead role directly after coming off the success of Sound of Music, and he plays the charming robber Eddie Chapman with oodles of urbane style. Moreover, Terence Young, the director, knew Eddie persoanlly from his time in the Soho of the 1930s. A pity then, that the film lacks coherence and cohesion, with Chapman's character portrayed in 2 dimensions, and often just one. A big disappointment.
WILLOW (1988) D-Ron Howard. A little man finds a baby floating on a river and adopts it. What he doesn't know is that the baby has magical powers and is sought by an evil witch. OK then. All the George Lucas elements are there (he conceived the project), fantasy, humour, some dwarves (including Warwick Davis, who of course has had a career re-boot since he met Ricky Gervais) and, you've guessed it, a lousy script. Somehow nothing about this movie works, from the uncertain direction (Ron was yet to find his feet) poor acting (Warwick as guilty as any) and its length (it's a good 1/2 hour too long). Well, at last I've seen it, but boy, I could have left it out permanently as it turns out.
WILD BILL (2012) D- Dexter Fletcher. An old lag is released from prison and goes to care for his 2 sons, but finds that by necessity (mum abandoned them) they've been doing the job by themselves for years. Then he discovers his 10 year old has been recruited as a dealer. He is not best pleased... Charlie Creed-Miles puts in a terrific performance of raw power and understated emotion in this gritty, highly realistic story of life in the sink estates. In fact all the players are excellent. A splendid find which I came across almost by chance. Catch it or miss out.
MIDNIGHT IN PARIS (2010) D- Woody Allen. A wealthy young American in Paris (Owen Wilson) is having second thoughts about his upcoming marriage. Then one night he finds a taxi which somehow takes him back into the 1920s, and he begins, incredulously at first, but then with growing delight, to rub shoulders with Hemingway, Picasso and Gertrude Stein (a superb Kathy Bates). A welcome return to form for Allen, whose recent offerings have failed to satisfy. I was beginning to worry he might be past his sell-by, but this film shows he is very much not.
Post script. Thanks for working through the list. Including the 3 docus I have reviewed in another post, this makes 15 "new" films I have seen this month, which I believe to be a record for me. I've a way to go though. I'm sure Mark Kermode sees at least 2 new films a day, though that is his day job. You might say I should get a life: I'd say I've already got one. See you next month!.
Thursday, 31 January 2013
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
A little truth to counteract the lies
Last week David Ward was castigated for telling the truth about how Israel operates in the Holy Land. Now Rupert Murdoch has been forced to apologise for a cartoon which appeared in the Sunday Times, where Netenyahu is depicted laying bricks in the separation wall, using blood as his mortar. The cartoon, drawn by the celebrated cartoonist Gerald Scarfe, is in the best tradition of savage satire, in the same irreverent way as political cartoonists have worked in Britain since the 18th century.
Here are a few facts for your consideration. The pro-Jewish lobby in the U.S. is one of the most powerful and best funded in America. Their job is to keep support of Israel, right or wrong, at the front of the minds of senators and congressmen, every single day. Their work also raises $8 million a day through contributions from the American public, so clearly the work pays for itself, and then some. From this vast fortune, $6 million is allocated annually to a shadowy group whose exclusive purpose is to seek out any Palestinian initiative in the States and discredit it.
For instance, last year there was a travelling art exhibit featuring drawings by the children of Gaza. At every proposed venue protests and demonstrations were set up, and so effective were these that the majority of venues cancelled before the exhibit opened. The pro-Israeli group claimed the pictures weren't drawn by children at all, and when this was disproved, then claimed that they were "assisted by their teachers". So what you may ask: isn't that what teachers do everywhere?. The real problem of course, was what the children chose to depict: bombs falling from the sky, helicopters circling overhead, spitting death from their machine-guns, soldiers with rifles shooting at child protesters who are throwing stones at them. In other words, like any good artists, the children were showing what they themselves were seeing nearly every day. I haven't seen this exhibition in Britain yet; it may be that the Israeli dirty tricks campaign here has managed to scupper it already. We've already seen how far-reaching its powers are over here. I mean, let's face it, it can't be easy to get Rupert to grovel, but they got him to do it with ease. As for David Ward, he was easy meat....
Here are a few facts for your consideration. The pro-Jewish lobby in the U.S. is one of the most powerful and best funded in America. Their job is to keep support of Israel, right or wrong, at the front of the minds of senators and congressmen, every single day. Their work also raises $8 million a day through contributions from the American public, so clearly the work pays for itself, and then some. From this vast fortune, $6 million is allocated annually to a shadowy group whose exclusive purpose is to seek out any Palestinian initiative in the States and discredit it.
For instance, last year there was a travelling art exhibit featuring drawings by the children of Gaza. At every proposed venue protests and demonstrations were set up, and so effective were these that the majority of venues cancelled before the exhibit opened. The pro-Israeli group claimed the pictures weren't drawn by children at all, and when this was disproved, then claimed that they were "assisted by their teachers". So what you may ask: isn't that what teachers do everywhere?. The real problem of course, was what the children chose to depict: bombs falling from the sky, helicopters circling overhead, spitting death from their machine-guns, soldiers with rifles shooting at child protesters who are throwing stones at them. In other words, like any good artists, the children were showing what they themselves were seeing nearly every day. I haven't seen this exhibition in Britain yet; it may be that the Israeli dirty tricks campaign here has managed to scupper it already. We've already seen how far-reaching its powers are over here. I mean, let's face it, it can't be easy to get Rupert to grovel, but they got him to do it with ease. As for David Ward, he was easy meat....
Sunday, 27 January 2013
Go on keeping it real, David
So David Ward, lib dem MP for Bradford East, finds out the true meaning of political correctness in Britain today: you can't say anything negative about Israel, however disgracefully they are behaving. It's just not right, apparently, especially on Holocaust day. David was bemoaning the fact that the Jews, having come through a serious attempt to wipe them off the face of the Earth, are now acting in ways that the Nazis might have found familiar. To me though, the analogy is more with the Apartheid state of South Africa rather than the Nazis. They were trying to enclose the blacks in their "homelands" (an entirely artificial concept, developed by the government) and then keep them there to have their "separate development", because they were different from, and inferior to, the Whites. Go to Israel and you'll see exactly the same thing happening there.
But while the South African blacks received support from around the world, Israel's campaign of disinformation has been so effective that the Palestinians are thought of almost universally as a band of bloodthirsty terrorists, intent on throwing the Jews into the sea. The truth is much more banal. The Palestinian people are just a community of people who are denied the human rights of travel and full citizenship. They don't want murder and mayhem; they just want to get on with their lives in peace, without having their land stolen and their farms vandalised.
But while the South African blacks received support from around the world, Israel's campaign of disinformation has been so effective that the Palestinians are thought of almost universally as a band of bloodthirsty terrorists, intent on throwing the Jews into the sea. The truth is much more banal. The Palestinian people are just a community of people who are denied the human rights of travel and full citizenship. They don't want murder and mayhem; they just want to get on with their lives in peace, without having their land stolen and their farms vandalised.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
We need to talk about Mali
Look, I'm a bit worried about Mali right now. There's a civil war going on there, between the moderate government and a radical Islamic group known as Boko Haram. When it became clear the Islamists were gaining ground, the French, who have had their dirty paws in this region for a long time, decided to go in and kick some butt. Almost immediately there was a reaction against the hated agents of western culture, specifically the attack on the Algerian gas plant with the resulting loss of many European lives.
These people are dangerous. They are committed to smashing everything that even reminds them of the West, and that means we could be in for it right here on the home front.
Mali is a huge country; twice as big as France but with only a quarter of that country's population. Interestingly it is the 3rd largest producer of gold in the African continent, though oddly its GDP is one of the lowest in the world. Most of its people live in the south, where towns and villages throng along the two great rivers, the Niger and the Senegal. Most of the rest of the country is a desolate wasteland, though there are a few ancient oasis cities deep in the desert, notably the city of Timbuktu, its very name evocative of a place far, far away. It used to feature a number of beautiful, pre-Islamic buildings: not any more. The Islamists smashed anything non Muslim to rubble, just as the Taliban did in Afghanistan when they dynamited the great reclining Buddhas. And it is this sort of cultural vandalism I hate the most. These are crimes against humanity, crimes against the future, if you will, because they deprive future generations of these unique and irreplaceable structures. It's like causing an animal species to become extinct.
So what do we do? Do we throw our lot in with the Frenchies, and mount military strikes against the rebels? Or do we sit on our hands and wait and see?
I didn't used to like the idea of a "war on terror", but the fact remains that there is a powerful, well-funded group of people who would like to convert the whole world to Islam, and are perfectly happy to kill anyone who does not comply. Faced with that sort of intransigence, there seems little else we can do but stand up and say: You're not converting me, pal, and if you use force we shall respond in kind. This is no time for pacifism.
These people are dangerous. They are committed to smashing everything that even reminds them of the West, and that means we could be in for it right here on the home front.
Mali is a huge country; twice as big as France but with only a quarter of that country's population. Interestingly it is the 3rd largest producer of gold in the African continent, though oddly its GDP is one of the lowest in the world. Most of its people live in the south, where towns and villages throng along the two great rivers, the Niger and the Senegal. Most of the rest of the country is a desolate wasteland, though there are a few ancient oasis cities deep in the desert, notably the city of Timbuktu, its very name evocative of a place far, far away. It used to feature a number of beautiful, pre-Islamic buildings: not any more. The Islamists smashed anything non Muslim to rubble, just as the Taliban did in Afghanistan when they dynamited the great reclining Buddhas. And it is this sort of cultural vandalism I hate the most. These are crimes against humanity, crimes against the future, if you will, because they deprive future generations of these unique and irreplaceable structures. It's like causing an animal species to become extinct.
So what do we do? Do we throw our lot in with the Frenchies, and mount military strikes against the rebels? Or do we sit on our hands and wait and see?
I didn't used to like the idea of a "war on terror", but the fact remains that there is a powerful, well-funded group of people who would like to convert the whole world to Islam, and are perfectly happy to kill anyone who does not comply. Faced with that sort of intransigence, there seems little else we can do but stand up and say: You're not converting me, pal, and if you use force we shall respond in kind. This is no time for pacifism.
Friday, 25 January 2013
Book and film special edition: the documentaries
Welcome to a one-off special: this month I have been fortunate enough to have seen 3 outstanding film documentaries which I think are worthy of inclusion in their own section. I also throw in a "documentary" book for good measure.
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE MULTIPLEX, by Mark Kermode. We all know the good doctor's work from his Friday afternoon film slot with Simon Mayo on Radio 5. In that manifestation he is endlessly entertaining and informative. When I started his book, however, I felt his style did not translate well to the written word, in fact it was becoming faintly irritating: overly chatty and even a bit embarrassing. But I relaxed, and soon settled into his quirky, informal style. I began to enjoy his highly incisive take on the movie business, in particular his tribute to what movies could achieve in the early days, before they apparently ran out of ideas. Some of his themes are well known to us from his frequent rants on radio: his betes noir of 3D (it's a con perpetrated by desperate movie men to get us out of the house and spending money, however crap the thing itself might be), blockbusters that are also crap but still make money because of clever marketing, and the cynical Hollywood practise of "American language" shot-for-shot remakes of perfectly good (and ultimately, usually superior) foreign films. His judgements are neat, surgical and often devastating. Nice one!
FILMS
INTO GREAT SILENCE (2007) D- Philippe Groening. A French film maker approached the Abbott of a Carthusian monastery, requesting permission to make a film about them. Fifteen years later they finally agreed and let the cameras in. What we see, shot entirely in natural light, is an extraordinary window into the world of a community of monks who, like the nuns in the film No Greater Love, have taken a vow of silence and a dedication to prayer and contemplation. Only once a week do they relax their rule, when they go out on a long walk in the country and chat "normally". Groening takes great care to convey the slow, quiet flow of events in the monastery, which is set in stunning scenery high in the French Alps. Eventually the effect is almost uniquely absorbing, as we are gently drawn into their world. One of the most touching moments takes place on one of their forays outside, where they find a snow covered slope and slide down it in glee, giggling and falling about like children. Why shouldn't they?
THE HOUSE I LIVE IN (2012) D- Eugene Jarecki. Named after a song written in the 40s by Abel Meeropol, the house is America. And oh dear, what a depressing place the house has become, especally if you're black and fallen foul of the drug laws. There are 2.2 million people incarcerated in the US; up to a quarter of whom are in for small time dealing and possession. Most of them aren't white. Worst are the laws around crack, where until recently penalties for supplying it were 100 times (sic) heavier than for dealing powder cocaine. Obama recently reduced the disparity to 18 times, which still seems insane to this observer. Eugene Jarecki's fine film delves into the lives of the people who have become casualties of the system, as well as looking at the law makers and enforcers. Makes you glad you don't live there...
EXIT THROUGH THE GIFT SHOP (2010) D- Banksy. In Los Angeles (where else?), a crazy, French ex-pat dude called Thierry Guetta is filming his life, second by second, when he bumps into some street artists and decides it would be more interesting to film them. He captures some marvellously anarchic footage in the process, but in his heart yearns to meet the Great One from Bristol. Then one day, completely by chance, he does. And so taken is Banksy by this ball of manic energy and enthusiasm, he allows Guetta to film him at work. Finally Banksy suggests he might want to make art rather than just filming it, and Guetta takes him at his word. Within months his work is a sensation throughout the LA glitterati. And Banksy is left wondering what kind of monster he has created... Some say none of this is true, that it's all another Banksy put-on. I don't know, but it makes for riveting viewing, gospel truth or not.
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE MULTIPLEX, by Mark Kermode. We all know the good doctor's work from his Friday afternoon film slot with Simon Mayo on Radio 5. In that manifestation he is endlessly entertaining and informative. When I started his book, however, I felt his style did not translate well to the written word, in fact it was becoming faintly irritating: overly chatty and even a bit embarrassing. But I relaxed, and soon settled into his quirky, informal style. I began to enjoy his highly incisive take on the movie business, in particular his tribute to what movies could achieve in the early days, before they apparently ran out of ideas. Some of his themes are well known to us from his frequent rants on radio: his betes noir of 3D (it's a con perpetrated by desperate movie men to get us out of the house and spending money, however crap the thing itself might be), blockbusters that are also crap but still make money because of clever marketing, and the cynical Hollywood practise of "American language" shot-for-shot remakes of perfectly good (and ultimately, usually superior) foreign films. His judgements are neat, surgical and often devastating. Nice one!
FILMS
INTO GREAT SILENCE (2007) D- Philippe Groening. A French film maker approached the Abbott of a Carthusian monastery, requesting permission to make a film about them. Fifteen years later they finally agreed and let the cameras in. What we see, shot entirely in natural light, is an extraordinary window into the world of a community of monks who, like the nuns in the film No Greater Love, have taken a vow of silence and a dedication to prayer and contemplation. Only once a week do they relax their rule, when they go out on a long walk in the country and chat "normally". Groening takes great care to convey the slow, quiet flow of events in the monastery, which is set in stunning scenery high in the French Alps. Eventually the effect is almost uniquely absorbing, as we are gently drawn into their world. One of the most touching moments takes place on one of their forays outside, where they find a snow covered slope and slide down it in glee, giggling and falling about like children. Why shouldn't they?
THE HOUSE I LIVE IN (2012) D- Eugene Jarecki. Named after a song written in the 40s by Abel Meeropol, the house is America. And oh dear, what a depressing place the house has become, especally if you're black and fallen foul of the drug laws. There are 2.2 million people incarcerated in the US; up to a quarter of whom are in for small time dealing and possession. Most of them aren't white. Worst are the laws around crack, where until recently penalties for supplying it were 100 times (sic) heavier than for dealing powder cocaine. Obama recently reduced the disparity to 18 times, which still seems insane to this observer. Eugene Jarecki's fine film delves into the lives of the people who have become casualties of the system, as well as looking at the law makers and enforcers. Makes you glad you don't live there...
EXIT THROUGH THE GIFT SHOP (2010) D- Banksy. In Los Angeles (where else?), a crazy, French ex-pat dude called Thierry Guetta is filming his life, second by second, when he bumps into some street artists and decides it would be more interesting to film them. He captures some marvellously anarchic footage in the process, but in his heart yearns to meet the Great One from Bristol. Then one day, completely by chance, he does. And so taken is Banksy by this ball of manic energy and enthusiasm, he allows Guetta to film him at work. Finally Banksy suggests he might want to make art rather than just filming it, and Guetta takes him at his word. Within months his work is a sensation throughout the LA glitterati. And Banksy is left wondering what kind of monster he has created... Some say none of this is true, that it's all another Banksy put-on. I don't know, but it makes for riveting viewing, gospel truth or not.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Anatomy of a short migraine
Doctors who relish linguistic precision call it hemicrania, Greek for "half a head". The term refers to the first of the classical triad of symptoms: unilateral, or one sided, headache. The other two are nausea/vomiting and visual hallucinations.
Most people demonstrate their own distinctive pattern which is a combination of one or more of these. In my case, I don't get the headache or the nausea (thank Christ) but only the visual phenomena, plus a vague sense of malaise.
My hallucination is remarkably consistent: a backwards "C" shape which initially resembles a floater but enlarges to fill the visual field. The "C" contains jagged lines of colour; this morning the colours were black, yellow and white. The shape gradually enlarges until it sort of zooms out altogether, leaving the vision clear. The process can take a couple of hours; this morning, thankfully, it lasted only half an hour. They say migraine is stress related, but as my friends would doubtless tell me: you're semi-retired now, so what stress? A good point. I can only say it started when I was accompanying my FiL to the local newsagent to secure a morning paper, and it occurred that my duty was a very sad one: not so long ago he was perfectly capable of performing this task by himself, but now he would only get lost and be found wandering by the police, perhaps hours later. That's why he had to go and live in an OPH. It's necessary I know, but no less heartbreaking for that..
Most people demonstrate their own distinctive pattern which is a combination of one or more of these. In my case, I don't get the headache or the nausea (thank Christ) but only the visual phenomena, plus a vague sense of malaise.
My hallucination is remarkably consistent: a backwards "C" shape which initially resembles a floater but enlarges to fill the visual field. The "C" contains jagged lines of colour; this morning the colours were black, yellow and white. The shape gradually enlarges until it sort of zooms out altogether, leaving the vision clear. The process can take a couple of hours; this morning, thankfully, it lasted only half an hour. They say migraine is stress related, but as my friends would doubtless tell me: you're semi-retired now, so what stress? A good point. I can only say it started when I was accompanying my FiL to the local newsagent to secure a morning paper, and it occurred that my duty was a very sad one: not so long ago he was perfectly capable of performing this task by himself, but now he would only get lost and be found wandering by the police, perhaps hours later. That's why he had to go and live in an OPH. It's necessary I know, but no less heartbreaking for that..
Saturday, 19 January 2013
Andrew Mitchell: an apology
Andrew Mitchell: sorry.
Speaking of apologies, I was able to watch Oprah's interview with Lance Armstrong last night, and I could then see for myself his body language as well as his words. His words were unimpressive in so far as he felt sorry, though more for the fact that he got caught than anything else. He seemed to be saying he had to keep up his blood doping and EPO injections year after year in order to compete, and completely failed to appreciate that this gave him an unfair advantage over anyone who was not using drugs. And that, Lance, is why it's called cheating. His non verbal utterances were equally revealing. In particular there was his closed, pinched face, full of unexpressed anger at being placed in such an embarrassing situation; unable to accept the fact that he put himself in said position.
So it now seems that Armstrong was not the greatest cyclist in history; only one of the cleverest, in that he avoided being found out for so many years. Hence he is not the greatest drug cheat in history: that accolade really belongs to Florence Griffiths-Joiner. You'll remember in the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, Flo-Jo won gold in both the 100 and 200 metres, putting in world record times that no other woman has ever got even close to since. And she never got caught, though her sins came home to roost when she died too young, of heart disease which it is hard to argue was not a consequence of the huge doses of steroids her body absorbed, though they were never detected at the time. Drugs are illegal for 2 reasons: because, as we have seen, they offer an unfair advantage, but also because they can kill.
Speaking of apologies, I was able to watch Oprah's interview with Lance Armstrong last night, and I could then see for myself his body language as well as his words. His words were unimpressive in so far as he felt sorry, though more for the fact that he got caught than anything else. He seemed to be saying he had to keep up his blood doping and EPO injections year after year in order to compete, and completely failed to appreciate that this gave him an unfair advantage over anyone who was not using drugs. And that, Lance, is why it's called cheating. His non verbal utterances were equally revealing. In particular there was his closed, pinched face, full of unexpressed anger at being placed in such an embarrassing situation; unable to accept the fact that he put himself in said position.
So it now seems that Armstrong was not the greatest cyclist in history; only one of the cleverest, in that he avoided being found out for so many years. Hence he is not the greatest drug cheat in history: that accolade really belongs to Florence Griffiths-Joiner. You'll remember in the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, Flo-Jo won gold in both the 100 and 200 metres, putting in world record times that no other woman has ever got even close to since. And she never got caught, though her sins came home to roost when she died too young, of heart disease which it is hard to argue was not a consequence of the huge doses of steroids her body absorbed, though they were never detected at the time. Drugs are illegal for 2 reasons: because, as we have seen, they offer an unfair advantage, but also because they can kill.
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Armstrong worst drug cheat in history? I don't think so
There are reports emerging of Lance Armstrong's appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show in which he was apparently less forthcoming about his sins than we might have hoped. He does, after all, stand condemned by the US anti doping agency and other regulatory bodies for what has been called "the most sophisticated and far reaching campaign of drug enhancement 'in history'". But aren't they forgetting something? How about the East German athletic team, where a corrupt state actively encouraged, and indeed, insisted upon, a culture of steroid usage for more than 20 years, thereby securing innumerable world championships and Olympic gold medals, virtually all of which are secure because the testing regime simply wasn't up to detecting them at the time.
Want an example? Try Marita Koch, who set the incredible time of 47.06 seconds for the 400 metres in 1986, a record which still stands, despite the (in athletic terms) immense lapse of time since. She and many other East German athletes have come clean over the years and admitted they were given no choice about whether they took performing enhancing drugs- the team boss's word was law, and so it was take the drugs or off to the Gulags.
What Lance Armstrong did was terribly wrong, but he was one guy determined to win at all costs. But compared to the deceitful actions of an entire state over two or more decades, what he did is relatively small beer.
Want an example? Try Marita Koch, who set the incredible time of 47.06 seconds for the 400 metres in 1986, a record which still stands, despite the (in athletic terms) immense lapse of time since. She and many other East German athletes have come clean over the years and admitted they were given no choice about whether they took performing enhancing drugs- the team boss's word was law, and so it was take the drugs or off to the Gulags.
What Lance Armstrong did was terribly wrong, but he was one guy determined to win at all costs. But compared to the deceitful actions of an entire state over two or more decades, what he did is relatively small beer.
Sunday, 13 January 2013
Pelagius enters the Twittersphere
I turned 62 on Friday, and just to illustrate that you can teach old gits new tricks, I have signed up to Twitter, thereby keeping me in line with half a billion modern folks, all of whom are doubtless exchanging (a maximum of 144 characters) pearls of inestimable wisdom as we speak.
I haven't begun to follow anyone yet, having resisted Twitter's own suggestions of Seth McFarlane (the idea has possibilities) or Simon Cowell (I'd rather be nibbled to death by an okapi). Neither have I tweeted anything yet- but never fear- I will. I've gone in under my real name (which for obvious reasons I cannot reveal here) and I intend to follow some of my friends who are already part of the Great Scheme. I also want to post a "picture of the day", though I haven't worked out how to do that yet. But my wife does, and she'll be assisting me.
Will it change my life? I'm not sure. I went on facebook for nearly a year, but eventually became so irritated with the supreme banality of most people's contribuitions I signed off wishing a plague on all their houses. Whether twitter is an improvement on that remains to be seen. But I'll give it a good shot and see what happens.
See you out on the Twitterthing soon!
I haven't begun to follow anyone yet, having resisted Twitter's own suggestions of Seth McFarlane (the idea has possibilities) or Simon Cowell (I'd rather be nibbled to death by an okapi). Neither have I tweeted anything yet- but never fear- I will. I've gone in under my real name (which for obvious reasons I cannot reveal here) and I intend to follow some of my friends who are already part of the Great Scheme. I also want to post a "picture of the day", though I haven't worked out how to do that yet. But my wife does, and she'll be assisting me.
Will it change my life? I'm not sure. I went on facebook for nearly a year, but eventually became so irritated with the supreme banality of most people's contribuitions I signed off wishing a plague on all their houses. Whether twitter is an improvement on that remains to be seen. But I'll give it a good shot and see what happens.
See you out on the Twitterthing soon!
Wednesday, 9 January 2013
17 billion worlds and counting
In what must have been music to the ears of Seth Shostak, it was announced yesterday that the latest estimate of stars in our own galaxy with Earth-like planets circling them may be as high as 17 billion. The figure makes a lot of sense. Stars are formed as dust clouds gradually come together to form a central massive object which is surrounded by an "accretion disc", where secondary less massive objects form and begin to orbit the central mass, or star. That's the way our solar system formed 4.6 billion years ago, and it has to be the way stars and their satellites form everywhere. Most of these planets will be lifeless balls of gas or rocky deserts, but statistically some will form, like our own Spaceship Earth, right in the optimal, or "Goldilocks" zone where there is at least a chance of life developing. In our own case, there are only eight planets plus some rubble; yet it happened here.
It's all a question of maturity. 4.2 billion years ago Earth was struck by a Mars size proto-planet which has been named "Thea". Fortunately it hit us at an oblique angle (a direct hit would have vapourised the whole planet) and a huge slew of material was blown off into space where it hardened and formed our moon. It took a few hundred million years for the whole "double planet" system to cool down, during which we were struck repeatedly by asteroids and comets rich in water. And the evidence suggests that no sooner had the Earth cooled to the point where this water could exist in a liquid state, life began to form: algae and bacteria to begin with, then more complex life-forms, leading eventually to our good selves. It's a wonderful story, better in fact than anything the creationists could ever come up with. Good for you Seth. Seems like you were on the right track after all, and, like you say, it's only a question of when, and not if, we make contact with another life form out there. And that, let me tell you, will be one helluva day...
It's all a question of maturity. 4.2 billion years ago Earth was struck by a Mars size proto-planet which has been named "Thea". Fortunately it hit us at an oblique angle (a direct hit would have vapourised the whole planet) and a huge slew of material was blown off into space where it hardened and formed our moon. It took a few hundred million years for the whole "double planet" system to cool down, during which we were struck repeatedly by asteroids and comets rich in water. And the evidence suggests that no sooner had the Earth cooled to the point where this water could exist in a liquid state, life began to form: algae and bacteria to begin with, then more complex life-forms, leading eventually to our good selves. It's a wonderful story, better in fact than anything the creationists could ever come up with. Good for you Seth. Seems like you were on the right track after all, and, like you say, it's only a question of when, and not if, we make contact with another life form out there. And that, let me tell you, will be one helluva day...
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Superiority TV: why it's better than jeopardy TV
The most excellent Janet Street Porter has coined the term "jeopardy television" to describe the glut of programmes where there is some sort of competition, and where we the viewers can share the joy of victory and exercise our schadenfreude by pouring scorn on the losers. X Factor is perhaps the best example of this genre, though there are many others, like Strictly, Big Brother, Britain's got Talent and I'm a Celebrity.
I now propose a new category: "Superiority television", in which we see people behaving badly or illegally, and sometimes, taking the consequences of their unacceptable behaviour. Thus we, the viewers, are able to bask in a haze of euphoria and self-satisfaction as we appreciate the fact that we would never find ourselves in these predicaments because we are so much better than they are. So in this category we find all the real-life cop shows like Road Wars, Motorway Patrol and Cops (perhaps the original progenitor of all the others) as well as the hospital based shows like Sun, Sea and A and E. Finally we have programmes like The Jeremy Kyle Show where a procession of hideous low-lives are presented before us, each one with a sleazier back-story than the last, so that we may bask once again in our own superiority.
With enormous pleasure I watched two of these programmes this morning before finally climbing out of bed to do a session on my hand-weights (see how good I am?) In the first, Emergency Abroad, based around the casualty department of a Majorcan general hospital, we saw first an elderly lady with chest problems (actually she wasn't elderly; she just looked that way after a lifetime of drinking and smoking) sitting on a gurney waiting for a chest X ray while bemoaning the fact she couldn't go outside for a fag, then a young man who had fallen flat on his face after drinking ten shot-glasses of vodka and broken his nose. Finally another young man who, rendered psychotically stupid through drink, had so annoyed a local he had received a punch in the mouth which split his lip so badly it required reconstructive surgery. You see where I'm going with this?
Then it was Road Wars, where we saw a young man pulled over for erratic driving by cops prepared simply to give him a caution and allow him to continue on his way, become so aereated by being stopped that he began abusing the officers so vilely, and refusing so adamantly to "calm himself down" as he was continually urged to do, he ended up being arrested and taken to the cells for a "Section 5 public order offence" and fined 80 quid. What a fucking idiot eh? I'm glad I'm not like that, aren't you?
I now propose a new category: "Superiority television", in which we see people behaving badly or illegally, and sometimes, taking the consequences of their unacceptable behaviour. Thus we, the viewers, are able to bask in a haze of euphoria and self-satisfaction as we appreciate the fact that we would never find ourselves in these predicaments because we are so much better than they are. So in this category we find all the real-life cop shows like Road Wars, Motorway Patrol and Cops (perhaps the original progenitor of all the others) as well as the hospital based shows like Sun, Sea and A and E. Finally we have programmes like The Jeremy Kyle Show where a procession of hideous low-lives are presented before us, each one with a sleazier back-story than the last, so that we may bask once again in our own superiority.
With enormous pleasure I watched two of these programmes this morning before finally climbing out of bed to do a session on my hand-weights (see how good I am?) In the first, Emergency Abroad, based around the casualty department of a Majorcan general hospital, we saw first an elderly lady with chest problems (actually she wasn't elderly; she just looked that way after a lifetime of drinking and smoking) sitting on a gurney waiting for a chest X ray while bemoaning the fact she couldn't go outside for a fag, then a young man who had fallen flat on his face after drinking ten shot-glasses of vodka and broken his nose. Finally another young man who, rendered psychotically stupid through drink, had so annoyed a local he had received a punch in the mouth which split his lip so badly it required reconstructive surgery. You see where I'm going with this?
Then it was Road Wars, where we saw a young man pulled over for erratic driving by cops prepared simply to give him a caution and allow him to continue on his way, become so aereated by being stopped that he began abusing the officers so vilely, and refusing so adamantly to "calm himself down" as he was continually urged to do, he ended up being arrested and taken to the cells for a "Section 5 public order offence" and fined 80 quid. What a fucking idiot eh? I'm glad I'm not like that, aren't you?
Wednesday, 2 January 2013
The dark heart of fundamentalism
The New Year broke to murder once again in Pakistan, where more teachers and heath workers were murdered yesterday for the capital crimes of educating girls and immunising children against fatal diseases. As someone who has been immunising children for more than thirty years, the latter outrage shocks me all the more deeply. A lot of what I do in general practice could be seen as pandering to an over-privileged, neurotic middle class, but looking back over my career, I am convinced that preventing serious and fatal disease by immunisation is undoubtedly the most valuable thing I have offered to the community.
On the face of it there is no possible justification for these disgraceful crimes against humanity, but we need to remember something: during the hunt for Osama Bin Laden, the CIA infiltrated local health workers and intimidated them into obtaining DNA specimens of their child patients so that the Americans could work out if they were the offspring of OBL I am not saying this appalling act of subverting a legitimate aid effort justified the response of the Taliban, but at the very least I shouldn't think it helped much. You can certainly understand how the Taliban would view any kind of medical aid programme with the deepest suspicion.
Foreign aid workers always work under the severest difficulties from every side, and the interference from a foreign intelligence service has now rendered any aid effort in central Asia virtually unworkable. You reap what you sew...
The Taliban in central Asia, and Al Shabbab in sub-Saharan Africa believe that everything the West offers is tainted and should be de-constructed immediately. Again, it's easy to sit on our comfortable sofas and say "How terrible!" when this sort of thing happens, but remember: things are rarely as simple as they appear.
On the face of it there is no possible justification for these disgraceful crimes against humanity, but we need to remember something: during the hunt for Osama Bin Laden, the CIA infiltrated local health workers and intimidated them into obtaining DNA specimens of their child patients so that the Americans could work out if they were the offspring of OBL I am not saying this appalling act of subverting a legitimate aid effort justified the response of the Taliban, but at the very least I shouldn't think it helped much. You can certainly understand how the Taliban would view any kind of medical aid programme with the deepest suspicion.
Foreign aid workers always work under the severest difficulties from every side, and the interference from a foreign intelligence service has now rendered any aid effort in central Asia virtually unworkable. You reap what you sew...
The Taliban in central Asia, and Al Shabbab in sub-Saharan Africa believe that everything the West offers is tainted and should be de-constructed immediately. Again, it's easy to sit on our comfortable sofas and say "How terrible!" when this sort of thing happens, but remember: things are rarely as simple as they appear.
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