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03 Mar 19:32

tag yourself, i'm the dew in a tiny tea cup

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February 27th, 2017: EXCITING JURY DUTY UPDATE: the trial was cancelled so even though I put on a cool shirt and cleaned up nice, I didn't get to hold even a single person's fate in my all-too-fallible hands!!

– Ryan

02 Mar 16:53

Fruitcake on fruitcake: Ukip goes to war with itself

by Jonathan Calder


Ukip's main donor wants to deselect its only MP and says he will stand against him at the next election if necessary.

The party's former leader is backing the donor. Its current leader seems to have disappeared from the face of the Earth.

When I wrote a couple of weeks ago that the Brexiteers would probably end up fighting one another, I did not expect it to happen so soon.

Still, you have to laugh.
01 Mar 21:09

Some thoughts on anti-politics and populism

by Nick

A while ago, I wrote a couple of posts on why people saying ‘let’s take the politics out of this’ are invariably actually saying ‘let’s all agree with me’ and how such tactics are often used to benefit those who already hold the power and want to claim that their actions aren’t political.

That was back in 2015 when my major concern about those issues was the way they get misused in local government. Not that it hasn’t stopped happening there – I still see people who’ve been elected to multiple officers as the candidate of a political party claiming not to be politicians, others making pompous speeches complaining that the only reason others don’t agree with him is ‘politics’ and numerous commenters on social media and local news sites claiming that somehow politics is getting in the way of ‘doing what’s best’ – but that was just one small ice cube clinging to the side of a massive iceberg of anti-politics.

At its heart, politics is a process by which we decide who gets what in the allocation of scarce resources. That’s a very simple decision for a very complex field, yet it highlights the two key areas I want to highlight here: politics is about not just the many different decisions we have to choose between, but the way in which we choose to make those decisions. It’s about the process of making decisions as much as it is about the substance of those decisions, but it’s also a recognition that there’s no ideal solution to both of those issues. Just as we have to make decisions about allocations of resources that won’t please everyone, so too do we struggle to find a way of making those decisions in a way that seems fair and right to everyone.

Which brings us to the populist trend we see now across the globe, which I think is best described as a truly anti-politics movement because it rejects both parts of that idea as politics. It proposes that a radical solution to the question of how decisions are made can do away with the need for tough decisions. It often goes as far as to say that the existing political settlement – a system that encourages debate, discussion and compromise between competing ideas and viewpoints – is responsible for the fact that decisions about who gets what needs to be made. The system is corrupt and broken, they argue, and that’s why you can’t get everything you want. Overthrow the old way of doing things in favour of a better way and then we can make everything better. All those old checks and balances are what gets in the way of us all winning, so let me get rid of them and soon everything will be great.

It’s not a new viewpoint, and nor is it one limited to one side of the political spectrum. Indeed, at some levels, the methods of anti-politics are such as to negate any conventional understanding of politics we have, so committed are they to overturning everything about the way things are done. Politics as we conventionally understanding it is a process of dealing with a conundrum that appears to be fundamentally unsolvable and balancing competing ways of answering them within an understanding that we might be wrong and need to change our minds. Anti-politics claims that these issues are not unsolvable because it has the answers. There’s no need for compromise, doubt or the ability to change your mind because there is a true and correct answer, and that negates the need for any of the conventional processes of politics. Indeed, this is where we get the idea of ‘politics’ as a bad thing, for it embodies a process that doubts the true and correct way of doing things.

We can see this in Trump complaining that the established way of doing things is stopping Americans from ‘winning’ and over here, we see it in the claims that ‘the people have spoken’ about Brexit and no one should attempt to ask questions of the process. It’s not about presenting one idea or viewpoint to compete in a marketplace of them, it’s about being the only way and the only solution, the pure unadulterated will of the people that has to be adopted in full without compromise. By rejecting the basic ideas of politics as a process, anti-politics claims it can fundamentally change the outcomes of it too. No longer will we have to debate the allocation of scarce resources, but instead there’ll be everything for everyone. Well, everyone who supports the glorious vision anyway, the rest are doubters who don’t deserve any of the rewards.

(As you might have guessed, I’m still sketching out some ideas on these issues but wanted to put something out there for some debate and discussion in an effort to clarify and develop my thinking. So, comment away…)

28 Feb 17:56

The End of the British nuclear deterrent?

by Charlie Stross

I suspect the UK might lose its nuclear deterrent (and with it, its permanent seat on the UN Security Council) before 2020, thanks to Donald Trump. Here's why.

Background: The UK was the third country to test a nuclear weapon, in October 1952; it's one of the five recognized nuclear armed states under the non-proliferation treaty, and since the 1958 UK-USA Mutual Defense Agreement it has cooperated closely with the USA.

The stated goal of the British strategic nuclear deterrent since the mid-1950s has been to deter a Soviet nuclear strike on the UK (and, rather more murkily since 1991, a Russian attack). As such, the stated mission was to be able to wipe Moscow and surroundings off the map in the event that the UK was attacked and the USA declined to get involved in a strategic nuclear pissing match on behalf of its ally. (Whether or not this scenario makes any sense whatsoever is a moot point. Less controversially, the acknowledged strategic nuclear force is pointed to as an argument for the UK's continuing permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council.) During the 1950s-1980s the Royal Air Force maintained a strategic bomber capability in the shape of the V-Force, while from the mid-1960s onwards the Royal Navy operated Polaris SSBNs, but air-delivered nuclear weapons were phased out from the early 1980s onwards, along with all tactical nuclear weapons.

Since the 1990s, the British nuclear deterrent capability has relied exclusively on the Trident program. The UK built and operates four Vanguard class nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines (equivalent to but slightly smaller than the corresponding US Ohio Class SSBN), carrying UGM-133 Trident II ballistic missiles leased from a common pool with those of the US Navy, but with warheads built in the UK. As SLBMs can't easily be serviced inside the cramped launch tubes on board a submarine (unlike land-based ICBMs, which have rather more spacious accommodation), they are returned to the Strategic Weapons Facility Atlantic for regular maintenance and replacement; it is believed warheads are removed and reinstalled at HMNB Clyde on Faslane, 25 miles from Glasgow.

As the Vanguard-class submarines entered service in the early 1990s, they've been operating for 20 years already. The Atlantic ocean is a harsh environment, and nuclear submarines aren't immortal; the British government therefore committed in 2016 to procuring four new Dreadnought-class SSBNs, which are intended to carry updated Trident D-5 missiles and to enter service from 2028.

Here are two possible reasons why this won't happen.

Working hypothesis #1: Donald Trump is an agent of influence of Moscow. Less alarmingly: Putin's people have got blackmail material on the current President and this explains his willingness to pursue policies favourable to the Kremlin. Russian foreign policy is no longer ideologically dominated by communism, but focusses on narrow Russian interests as a regional hegemonic power and primary oil and gas exporter.

Clearly, it is not in Russia's geopolitical interest to allow a small, belligerent neighbor to point strategic nuclear missiles at Moscow. But this neighbor's nuclear capability has a single point of failure in the shape of the resupply arrangements under the 1958 UK-USA Agreement. Donald Trump has made no bones about his willingness to renegotiate existing treaties in the USA's favor, and has indicated that he wants to modernise and expand the US strategic nuclear capability. Existing nuclear weapons modernization programs make the first goal pointless (thanks, Obama!) but he might plausibly try to withdraw British access to Trident D-5 in order to justify commissioning four new US Navy SSBNs to carry the same missiles and warheads.

(Yes, this would break the "special relationship" between the USA and the UK for good—but remember, this is Donald Trump we're talking about: the original diplomatic bull in a china shop who decapitated the state department in his first month in office.)

Trump could present this as delivering on his promise to expand the US nuclear capability, while handing his buddy a gift-wrapped geopolitical easter egg.

Working hypothesis #2: Let us suppose that Donald Trump isn't a Russian agent of influence. He might still withdraw, or threaten, British access to Trident as a negotiation lever in search of a better trade deal with the UK, when Theresa May or her successor comes cap-in-hand to Washington DC in the wake of Brexit. It's a clear negative sum game for the British negotiating side—you can have a nuclear deterrent, or a slightly less unpalatable trade deal, but not both.

In this scenario, Trump wouldn't be following any geopolitical agenda; he'd just be using the British Trident renewal program as a handy stick to beat an opponent with, because Trump doesn't understand allies: he only understands supporters and enemies.

As for how fast the British Trident force might go away ...

Missiles don't have an indefinite shelf-life: they need regular servicing and maintenance. By abrogating the 1958 agreement, or banning Royal Navy warships from retrieving or delivering UGM-133s from the common stockpile at King's Bay, POTUS could rely on the currently-loaded missiles becoming unreliable or unsafe to launch within a relatively short period of time—enough for trade negotiations, perhaps, but too short to design and procure even a temporary replacement. It's unlikely that French M51 missiles) could be carried aboard Dreadnought-class SSBNs without major design changes to the submarines, even if they were a politically viable replacement (which, in the wake of Brexit, they might well not be).

Thoughts?

28 Feb 01:27

I hope you're proud of yourselves.

by Neurodivergent K
I live in the United States, where the political situation is best described as "we are watching the rise of a fascist dictatorship". A+ well done America.

But that's not who I am addressing.

Parents, I am talking to you. Particularly if you support Awareness(TM) and pushes for intensive intervention.

I've met you. A large number of you consider yourselves liberal or even progressive. A large number of you would claim to not support this. A large number of you threatened to move to Canada if this happened.

And that's why I hope you're fucking proud of yourselves.

Not only did you give money to an organization run by a man who supported the Mango Menace, but also you shot yourself in the "running to Canada" foot.

No one will take you now, and it's your fault. I mean, you destined me to fucking rot here, but y'all are all for my death anyway and don't pretend you aren't, I have a file of threats.

No one will take you either and it's your own doing.

Every time you demand 40h/week intensive, expensive therapy? You damned yourself. Every time you complained about how expensive an autistic child is? You damned yourself. Every time you threw a big public fit about what a pain in the ass your child is? You damned yourself.

Because of your Awareness, autism is now a named visa exclusion for many many countries. You have everyone convinced we cost much more than an average child and that we're hopeless drains on everyone else.

All so you could get tea and sympathy at the expense of your child. All in the name of support for yourself, the only real person in the situation.

Never did you think ahead to "maybe the US isn't going to always be a liveable situation", surely you didn't stop to think about how your child may not want to live here for whatever reason. It was all about your tea and sympathy and self pity.

And now you can't run away to Canada or the UK or anywhere else either! And yes, you fucked over me and mine. But you're stuck here too and even as I know I'm dying horribly (aren't you sad it wasn't by your hand? I know at least a dozen of you are) I can point and laugh pettily because you are stuck here too, in this cesspit of a Nazi run dictatorship.

A+ foresight, y'all. Well done.

I hope you're fucking proud. Just know it wasn't worth it. 
28 Feb 01:25

Same-sex marriage linked to decline in teen suicides.

Same-sex marriage linked to decline in teen suicides.
28 Feb 01:25

The Pearly Gates are never, ever closed

by Fred Clark
The Pearly Gates of Heaven are a cliché image in popular culture. Every time a famous person dies, newspaper cartoonists churn out variations of the Famous Person at the Pearly Gates cartoon. The same Pearly Gates scene gets recycled endlessly in movies, TV shows, advertising, and more jokes than we could ever get written down. But in all of that pop-culture imagery and in all the religious folklore built around it, we tend to get one detail of John of Patmos' vision completely backwards.
27 Feb 21:42

Unless LAB make a disastrous candidate choice then it’s hard to see them losing Gorton

by Mike Smithson

A seat where 62.1% voted REMAIN should in theory be challenging for Corbyn’s LAB

Yesterday I Tweeted expressing the wish that the next by-election along would be somewhere that voted to stay in the EU last June 23rd. Sadly that has come about following the death of the long-standing Labour MP, Sir Gerald Kaufman, at the age of 86.

As can been seen by the map the seat is rather odd shaped covering an area to the south of Manchester city centre and the university area. Thousands and thousands of students live there as well as many who work at the city large universities. Between GE1997 and GE2010 the LDs were in a strong second place at every general election.

At one stage after the Iraq War in 2004 the yellows held 19 of the 21 council seats in the constituency and in the following two general elections had vote shares of 30% plus.

The seat is just to the north of Manchester Withington and close to Hazel Grove which until GE2015 were held by the LDs. There is a largish activist base close by.

If it wasn’t for their disastrous GE2015 performance the LDs would fancy their chances in Manchester Gorton.

Unfortunately for them it was the Green who came second at GE2015 which makes it very much harder for the LDs to establish themselves as the tactical anti-LAB choice.

We could see a debate between the Greens and the LDs over who should fly the Ant-BREXIT flag.

The Tory vote could be interesting.

A lot depends on who gets selected by Labour. They need an unequivocal remainer who is prepared to disagree with Corbyn’s parliamentary BREXIT strategy.

Mike Smithson

Follow @MSmithsonPB

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27 Feb 14:39

Let's Talk About What We Talk About When We Talk About Teaching Let's Talk About Love

by Tegan O'Neil

Part Six of an ongoing series. Catch up with part One here. 
If you like my writing, please consider a donation to my Patreon.


Part One - The Modern Age 

With deep appreciation to Carl Wilson, who wrote the book
This is an intensive writing course. You will have writing homework every night and reading homework many nights. The theme of this course is taste– what you like, what other people like, how we define ourselves according to our likes and dislikes, and how we articulate these preferences. We will be examining the rhetoric of taste, as well as writing about how tastes are shaped by environment and culture. By investigating issues surrounding taste – good taste, bad taste and everything in between – we will be able to explore ideas of genre, audience, and persuasion that are central to the writing you will be expected to perform in this class as well as throughout your college career.

I taught college composition from the Fall of 2012 to the Summer of 2014. Freshman comp, compulsory general education requirement. My time teaching the subject was split between two courses, UWP 1 and ENL 3. UWP stands for University Writing Program, the department that administers the bulk of writing education on campus. ENL stands for English.

The two courses teach the same thing. My lesson plans in terms of writing education remained largely unchanged between them. UWP isn’t a “literature” course in the way most students are expecting – there’s still reading, but the course description specifically excludes fiction, plays, and poetry. Some degree of self-selection is anticipated, with students migrating to their preference. In reality the requirement is impacted to the degree that students land in one or the other class by virtue of scheduling. Everyone needs it – most students need very badly to become better writers – but freshman composition is nobody’s favorite. I accept that and try to make the topic interesting for students who may have very good reasons to dislike writing. 


As long as the basic writing education remains consistent I have leeway to devise my own courses. I enjoy challenging myself. Sometimes the experiments work, sometimes they don’t. The worst thing I can be is bored, and switching up the material every quarter keeps me engaged. My way of pushing through the drudgery of teaching writing – a valuable task but draining – is writing interesting syllabi packed with fun stuff that I want to read and teach. Variety makes a difference when you have to grade 25 near-identical papers on the same topic you’ve been reading about for a year. If I don’t stay engaged my teaching suffers.

The exception was the year I built a class around Carl Wilson’s 2007 book Let’s Talk About Love – A Journey to the End of Taste. This is volume 52 in the venerable 33 1/3 series, a series of small books each devoted to a different seminal record. Let’s Talk About Love is a 1997 Celine Dion album, home to Dion’s megahit “My Heart Will Go On.” This was the theme song to James Cameron’s 1997 Titanic, culturally ubiquitous for many years. That is changing.

Every other book in the 33 1/3 series is a labor of love. Let’s Talk About Love is the only volume devoted to an album the author dislikes. Neither hatchet job nor spoof, the book is an honest attempt to understand a cultural phenomenon whose appeal escapes the author. What could have been a joke becomes more. Wilson begins with a general and unexamined definition of  “cool.” He discovers that no attempt to define Dion’s appeal using the traditional tools of the paranoid critic accurately explains the sincerity and community he finds among Dion fans. “Cool” unravels. Wilson ends the book chastened, confronted with his shortcomings as a listener and a critic.

Wilson comes to understand that his antipathy to Dion’s music says more about him than her, and certainly more about him than her fans. The fans who agree to be interviewed are faultlessly polite to Wilson despite the fact that he is writing a book whose very premise is condescension. He ends the book certain “cool” and “uncool” are arbitrary labels affixed to certain kinds of cultural artifacts based on social, economic, and political factors that exist extrinsic to the artifact itself. There’s nothing in the music itself that makes it cool or uncool. Music is cool or uncool solely on the basis of who listens to it, and who is judging who.

What did you think was cool five years ago, and why? Do you still think it’s cool today? How is your idea of cool different from what you believed five years ago? Please explain your answer.
The subtitle of Wilson’s book – A Journey to the End of Taste – hints at the scope of the inquiry, but gestures towards possible misunderstanding. The book itself is ostensibly a tour of Dion’s music, and for prospective buyers Wilson’s “journey” appears to be an exploration of a distasteful cultural artifact. After reading the book it is difficult not to see that the title means, simply, that we have reached the end of taste.

What is taste? How do we assemble these criteria? To where do we look to see our virtue as consumers reflected back at us?

My students had no feel for the idea of taste. The very idea of value judgments based on musical preference was alien. This was a representative cross section of older American teenagers, alongside a high percentage of foreign students badly in need of dedicated ESL resources I had not been trained to provide. They understood the idea of “cool” – that never goes out of style – but a high percentage of them were confused by the process by which coolness translates (or doesn’t) into tastefulness. I highly suspect most of the class didn’t even know Celine Dion, despite the fact that the book spends a great deal of time discussing her worldwide popularity. The circumstances of her initial fame have faded. The teenagers who lined up around the block to buy tickets for Titanic have kids of their own who are old enough to go to the movies by themselves.

Imagine for a minute explaining to a group of strangers why Elliot Smith is supposed to be cooler than Celine Dion, when no one in that group has heard of either Smith or Dion. Your understanding of taste is shaken. How do you explain why a sad white man with a guitar is inherently superior to the pretty white woman singer? Especially since many in your class would be more inclined to appreciate the latter than the former?

Taste is a weapon, constructed around class distinction, and exists in an uneasy relationship to cool. Coolness is neither universal nor timeless, but the concept itself translates. In four classes, out of 100 students, no one cared to mount a defense of taste.

But that’s not what this essay is about.



When a critic or heavily invested music buff says, as they often do, that discovering music or writing “saved my life,” I think what lurks behind the melodrama is a feeling that a facility with pop culture and words has saved us from the life of subservient career, suburban lifestyle and quiet desperation we imagine befalls people like Celine Dion’s white American fans . . . (Wilson)

Rock & roll lingered because a powerful demographic decided it would accompany them through the world for the duration of their lives. It probably reached the end of its natural lifespan some time ago, but lingers in permanent attrition. The music now looks inward and tacitly accepts a senescence of diminished expectations juxtaposed against consistent technical refinement. It was born as the plaything of the boomers and it falls into eclipse just as the boomers’ grip on cultural production has finally gone limp. Rock & roll is no longer quite so important as it had been, or perhaps more accurately, it is no longer quite so important as it had believed, and grows less important by the day.

(When I refer to “rock” in this context, it is meant and should be taken to mean non-metal, “alternative,” “indie,” white, with guitars . . . the kind of rock music to which music critics [and vestigial rockist organs such as the NME] gesture lazily when they discuss “rock” as a concept. A very small gene pool, something increasingly acknowledged even among partisans.)

Losing cultural relevancy turned out to be a blessing in disguise for the music itself, and no group symbolizes this paradox quite like the Strokes. For those who come in late: the Strokes arrive in the early 2000s, overhyped by the British press as the next big thing in rock music. They did pretty well behind their first album, 2001’s Is This It, but the massive sales heralded by the hype never arrived. The band became huge within the sphere of people who cared about contemporary rock & roll, but that attention never completely translated to the mainstream. Generation X was aging out of their most intense period of cultural engagement, and something about the studied insincerity of post-2000 bands never quite sat well with many older rock fans. Perhaps it was the arrival of the Strokes that crystalized the fact that in the United States by 2001 the sphere of people who cared about contemporary rock & roll was smaller than expected, and shrinking.

In hindsight the notion that the Strokes were ever going to be superstars in the United States is laughable. They were a band built from a kit, cobbled together with bits and pieces of the previous 25 years of rock history. There was no attempt at “authenticity”: the Strokes came from money, had no hardscrabble origin, and dressed quite well in that scruffy early 00s way. Previous generations would have labeled them poseurs and dismissed them sight unseen. But the Strokes were only the tip of the sword, the first of many prominent bands from the era who trafficked in pastiche and cultivated a blank affect that repulsed as many listeners as it attracted.

Lots of people didn’t like the Strokes. Some people wereincensed by the Strokes. But although it wasn’t clear at the time, they did actually live up to the hype by ushering in a new generation of rock roll – a generation defined by shrinking horizons political, economic, and social.

The buzz on the Strokes for better and for worse was that they were a band that sounded like another band, another cooler band from twenty-or-twenty-five years earlier. No two people agreeD on the same band: some heard the Ramones, some Television, or the New York Dolls. I always heard the (early) Cars. All of these bands are there, and a dozen more, but none of them are dominant. Just bits and pieces, a little sound here, a guitar tone there. But even though it appears as if it should be an easy matter to dismantle the music, reduce it to its components and dismiss it in pieces, the finished product is more than the sum of its influences (in this case, any band that could theoretically have cut a 12” for Ork Records in 1977). The Strokes sound like the Strokes, and that’s a pretty distinctive sound, even if born familiar. There's no mistaking "Last Nite" for anyone else but them.

The Strokes assembled a sound by mixing-and-matching a group of primary influences whose common denominator was not musical but visual. They play music that sounds like it should be played by guys who look like the Strokes. Music history reduced to fashion.

Or at least that’s how it started. The Strokes got two albums out of their “classic” sound before changing. Inevitable, given that the band’s sound was as arch as it was limiting. The Strokes’ brief mystique effervesced around the idea of limitless cool, cool without measure. Being cool means no one sees you sweat. How, then, do you change?




Is This It was a magic trick. Room On Fire was the same trick again, in some ways better developed but lacking the immediacy of its parent. They had to do something different for their third album, and they did: 2006’s First Impressions of Earth showcased a band completely transformed. Now they sounded like a contemporary rock band. Reviews were mixed – polite verging on indifferent. It wasn’t that they had tried and failed. The album itself was hardly terrible. But it was different and, what’s worse, it was normal. A difficult third album, one by turns admirably abrasive and ineptly commercial, is hardly a great sin, and certainly a common one. But the Strokes weren’t just any band, they were the Strokes. With their aura of invincibility punctured, were they really even the same Strokes anymore?  

The Strokes couldn’t go on as they were. It was five years from First Impressions of Earth to 2011’s Angles, bizarre and baffling. Two years after that came Comedown Machine, a sturdy synthesis of the better pieces of the Strokes’ modern sound – odd pop trinkets juxtaposed against fast-paced rockers that reveal themselves pleasantly intricate on closer inspection. “Slow Animals” is the best distillation of later Strokes, an effervescent and effortless uptempo number built on a rhythm that somehow manages to stomp and skitter at the same time, powerful and nervous in equal measure. It’s an extraordinary composition, and ample evidence that the band did not cease being interesting after their first two albums. 

The Strokes play really well together. Their problem was one of expectations, born partly from their Oedipal relationship with their influences and partly from commercial prospects that failed to materialize. What exactly people expected, I couldn’t say – nor even if there were specific expectations. Maybe there were none, maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe that was the point. The future seemed quite far off. No one was making long term plans in the Fall of 2001. 

But that’s not what this essay is about.

In chapter 6, Wilson states that, “to supposedly more refined, educated ears, being a ‘showoff’ is the height of tackiness.” In this chapter and throughout the book, Wilson explores the concept of audience as it relates to the kinds of music we listen to. Here he presents a dichotomy between “more refined, educated” listeners and those listeners who are impressed by tacky, “showoff” music. What kind of assumptions is Wilson making about the type of people who like to listen to “tacky” pop music vs. those who listen to “artier” music? Do you agree with these assumptions?

I exhort my students to remember three principles of good writing: concision, precision, and clarity. They’re all related. Look for one and you’ll find the others.

A person’s writing can be as distinctive as a fingerprint, but bad writing is usually bad in all the same ways. Most writing does not deserve the courtesy of close attention. Writing in which the writer has little invested requires a similar investment from the reader. Good writing is good courtesy, a reflection of the sincere appreciation that you extend to your readers for the time spent with your words.

One of the easiest ways to communicate a lack of appreciation for your reader is to turn in writing rife with misspellings and grammatical errors. I ask my students to put themselves in the shoes of their prospective bosses, reading poorly written resume cover letters and making snap, often quite unfair judgments based solely on whether or not the applicant took the time to run spellcheck. In writing, as in life, we are often judged on the basis of small gestures that are expected to serve as shorthand for larger trends. Still: turning in a piece of writing, produced on a computer in the year 2016, that is nevertheless rife with the kind of misspellings and petty grammatical errors that Microsoft Word automatically fixes, broadcasts complete contempt for your reader. 

The best writing is the simplest writing. This is true in most instances because we judge a piece of writing based on how well it communicates its message. A good idea deserves to be understood, and the best way to ensure that your ideas are understood is to communicate clearly and precisely.


1.     In chapter 7 of LTAL, the assertion is made that two different audiences heard The Rite of Spring in 1913 and 1914. Furthermore, they suggest that the difference between these audiences was that the first audience was completely unprepared to hear a new and challenging piece of music, while the second audience was “eager to be shocked” (LTAL 78). What does that tell us about how the effectiveness of certain rhetoric might depend on its audience? Is it possible that the effectiveness of certain rhetoric might be changeable?

2.     How might these ideas of audience relate to our own discussions, in terms of what kind of audience might enjoy pop music like Celine Dion vs. what kind of audience might enjoy “difficult” or “challenging” music? How would you describe your own tastes according to these standards? What sort of preconceptions do we carry about the kind of audience that prefers one type of music (popular, accessible) to the other (obscure, difficult)?

Interpol is first and foremost a drummer’s band. Wipe every preconceived notion about the group from your mind, and begin again with the assertion that Sam Fogarino’s drumming is the most vital and necessary part of the band’s sound. Perhaps it doesn’t jump out at you. Listen again.

Few bands have been worse served by advance hype than Interpol. If the Strokes suffered from a sustained but diffuse familiarity that befogged the minds of listeners desperately searching for some kind of ironic “tell” that was never forthcoming, Interpol suffered from one specific comparison, a comparison which has dogged them since the very beginning of their career: Joy Division.

It would be difficult to deny that Joy Division was a strong influence, at least for 2002’s Turn on the Bright Lights. But the influence has been overstated, primarily because of a surface similarity between the sound of Paul Banks' and Ian Curtis' voices. This similarity has been overplayed, particularly since – beginning with 2004’s Antics and continuing through to the present day – Banks has changed his singing slightly with every album. His voice is recorded different each time, or at least carries a different affect based on the album’s tone: for Turn on the Bright Lights he is febrile, exhausted; for Antics, cold, alternating between emotionally distant and imperious, almost barking in places. For 2007’s Our Love To Admire he is flayed, harsh, metallic, but morose and vulnerable on 2010’s self-titled affair.

But make no mistake: it’s Fogarino’s band. Interpol is defined by a semi-antagonist dynamic between the drummer and the vocalist, the latter perpetually one half-step behind the beat and running to catch up. Fogarino is implacable, a metronome in human form, unerringly precise but still effortlessly loose. Banks is just a singer, Fogarino is a force of nature. A drummer’s drummer, in essence. Fogarino is ten years older than banks, six years older than guitarist Daniel Kessler.

The early 2000s were consumed by the hunt for the saviors of rock & roll prophesied during the Clinton administration and desperately hunted by an industry whose A&R men stuck to the idea of rock as an art form of mass appeal longer than most of the rest of the country. At the time the Strokes’ failure to conquer the American airwaves was still seen as a temporary setback for the industry and not a sign that rock had lost its gravity. At the time every subsequent much hyped band was still greeted with wary enthusiasm: every buzz band represented a new chance to win the hearts and minds of a generation who would otherwise have little connection to the genre.  


In 2002 Pitchfork prefaced their review of Turn on the Bright Lights with an allusion to the “veritable shitstorm of publicity drummed up by a certain New York City band, one that had the audacity to not be the denim-clad messiahs of rock & roll we'd been promised.” The industry was wise to be wary of buzz bands who failed to make the turnover, because the music itself had become insulated from a mass audience through a gradual distillation of style down to a patchwork of genre signifiers. The best rock music in this period was rock music being made by and for people with large record collections, people who got the jokes. Rock music in the first decade of the twentieth-first century was defined by consistent refinement of existing principle, without a lot of outsized novelty. The humility is itself confrontational. 

This turn inward on the part of rock & roll was mirrored by a general cultural turn away from rock over the same time period. Hard rock and metal had long since segregated themselves on the airwaves, thriving as they still do on a wavelength apart from other forms of contemporary rock and pop. Teen pop never really went away after the high tide at the turn of the century, although the stars kept changing and only a few of them managed lasting careers. Hip-hop reigned. It was important for rock's self-image to continue to be able to dominate the cultural conversation. It's a genre that has historically relied on the the illusion of universal appeal to provide thematic ballast. Without its reflexive self-importance, where did it have to go? 

Interpol did not arrive borne on the wings of the same ruinous expectations as the Strokes. They were a decidedly murkier, less mainstream proposition. Instead of taking their cue from the kind of bands that could have been seen skulking around the East Village in 1977, Interpol were devoted to post-punk and proto-goth influences like Joy Division, yes, but also Magazine, early Bauhaus, and any number of groups that could have been shelved alongside them at Rough Trade in 1979. As with the Strokes, however, the band quickly moved past the simple recitation of their earliest influences on their way to developing a distinctive and recognizable sound.

The critical consensus of 2002, while enthusiastic, could not shake the compulsion to comparison, and the incessant drive to quantify influences marks reviews from the era as surely as the incessant use of the word “angular” as an adjective to describe any random guitar noise. Here is a section from that same Pitchfork review, written by Eric Carr:

Speaking of Closer, Interpol can't seem to shake being likened to Factory prodigies Joy Division. The cause, however, isn't necessarily evident. Indeed, Daniel Kessler's sublime, angular downstrokes follow the smooth confidence of Carlos Dengler's basslines, and Paul Banks sings with Ian Curtis' downcast delivery and dramatic flair. The difference, however, lies in the music itself: what Joy Division played was sparse and jagged-- punk with a melancholy, but often minimalist bent. Interpol, meanwhile, are punk in ethic alone; their music bears few of that genre's signatures, with the band instead immersing themselves in a grander, more theatrical atmosphere with lush production that counters their frustrated bombast.

The situation was egregious enough that it became, in hindsight, the single most notable thing about the band’s reception. In 2012, writing about the album’s tenth anniversary for the same website, Matt LeMay wrote,

In retrospect, 2002 may have been the very year that we stopped talking about how music sounds, and started talking about what other music it sounds like. "Interpol sounds like Joy Division" was one of the first critical observations to turn into a full-fledged meme. In the intervening years, other bands have sounded a whole lot more like Joy Division, and the comparison now feels like just that: a comparison.

The mania for comparison infected critical discourse to the extent that, for anyone looking inside the echo chamber from outside, it would have been difficult not to come to the conclusion that the genre was hopelessly narcissistic, stuck playing variations on a theme for a dwindling coterie of fans and critics who were happy to assume that the culture still revolved around them. Most fans and critics were certain that the lifestyle and fashion of twenty-something middle-class white kids would remain the cultural norm, as they had been for much of the previous century. 


“Alternative” culture – which was very much still a thing in 2002, even if the label was falling out of use – was premised on being in some way “other,” a way for white kids who grew up in the wasteland of the 1980s and 1990s to focus their dissatisfaction through inappropriate or edgy music and lifestyle choices. It was difficult to mask the privilege inherent in the enterprise, however. Teenage rebellion is a wonderful idea when rebellion is merely a lifestyle choice, symbolic and of little lasting consequence. But the instinctive posture of rebellion adopted by so many rock fans and critics who believed that liking rock music in the twenty-first century was a brave attempt at thoughtful iconoclasm was sour and curdled at its core.  
As Wilson wrote, describing the split between Celine Dion’s fans and Elliott Smith fans, this was,

one of the ruling paradoxes for partisans of ‘alternative’ culture: It might look like you were asserting superiority over the multitudes, but as a former bullied kid, I always figured it started from rejection. If respect or simple fairness were denied you, you’d build a great life (the best revenge) from what you could scrounge outside their orbit, freed from the thirst for majority approbation.

There’s nothing worse than a former outcast with a small cache of cultural capital. The problem with this mindset is that as the market for rock music shrank, the idea of rock critics as cultural gatekeepers was revealed to be a remarkable feat of self-delusion. Only rock critics believed themselves to be arbiters of taste. As the rest of the culture moved on it became easier to walk past them altogether. The vaunted “authenticity” represented by artists like Smith could be seen for what it was: elitism built around a set of stereotypes and suppositions that betrayed a rigid adherence to the promulgation of class, gender, and racial restrictions that dated back to the 1950s and 60s.

Wilson's book was just one of the signs from this period that the previous critical paradigm was crumbling, not just in terms of what people wrote about rock but how musicians regarded themselves. The magpie styles and studied professionalism of groups like Interpol and the Strokes (and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the White Strips and Arcade Fire and Spoon, et al) was a direct challenge to the notion that rock needed to enact a revolutionary pose and reinvent the wheel with every new generation in order to be interesting. Without the comforting illusion of middle-class rebellion to fall back on, what was rock? Something people wrote about on their blogs. The goal of rock stardom even for popular bands was no longer mansions and limousines, but being able to pay a mortgage and afford health insurance. No one gets to be Led Zeppelin anymore. It's a job now. There's no such thing as "selling out" when corporate sponsorships, licensing, and constant touring can't even guarantee a decent middle-class living for popular bands. To pretend otherwise is pure fantasy. 

The sterotype of the tortured artist – an Elliott Smith or Ian Curtis - will never fade from pop culture. But the idea that art is only as good as the degree of suffering involved in its creation is no more an objective standard than the idea that Celine Dion produces superior music simply by virtue of her plainly being a more technically proficient singer than either Smith or Curtis. 
That’s not to say that Elliott Smith isn’t pretty good – or Interpol or the Strokes – just that there’s no moral high ground gained from preferring Smith to Dion. My students had no problem understanding this idea. It’s music created for a specific audience, just like any other music. Maybe you fall into the intended audience, maybe you don’t. Maybe it changes your life, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s just pleasant background noise. People enjoy what they enjoy for a wide variety of reasons. Maybe it might be more productive – as Wilson ultimately posits – to ask how the music makes you feel, and why it makes you feel that way. That feeling is the only “authenticity” that matters in music, any kind of music.

But that’s not what this essay is about.



In the end, if delight is where you find it and myriad pop pleasures meet the heterodox needs of diverse publics, what is the real substance of the dislike I and so many other commentators have for Celine Dion? (Wilson)

Before the first day of class on my first day of teaching what became affectionately known among my fellow teachers as the “Celine Dion class,” I was certain that Celine Dion was a figure of enduring prominence who required no explanation. Surely she’s a massive star whose music is still played across the world, and who will remain a fixture in the firmament for so long as Titanicremains a touchstone in the culture.

The lesson I learned is that culture doesn't work like that. I was usually too afraid to ask what percentage of my class had never heard of Dion before walking into class on the first day. I would wager that most had heardDion before, even if they may never have known the woman’s name, much as kids from my generation grew up surrounded by the previous generation’s AM Gold without ever knowing who sang “Superstar” (unless we asked). At a certain point extraordinarily popular music graduates to the status of background noise. The idea that someone who sang adult-contemporary ballads might be prima facie uncool, and therefore a ripe target for mockery, was alien.   
Students already understood a great deal of the cultural hierarchy that Wilson explores so painstakingly throughout his book. There’s no intrinsic reason why rock music sits at the pinnacle of culture, so it just doesn’t, and no one under the age of approximately thirty-five seems to think that’s in any way unusual. It’s music for white people, what’s more, a certain type of white person. Anything that smacked of contemporary rock was understood by my students as being for a very specific demographic: hipsters.

For all the controversy over the definition of a “hipster,” my students knew the type immediately: white, middle-class, snotty. People who think their tastes make them more interesting than you. The music they listen to is consequently branded as “hipster music” – and subsequently dismissed.

To understand the significance of “audience” to rhetoric – the first principle of any rhetorical instance, be it a song or a college paper, is the recognition of your audience – we watched a few music videos. I took the class step-by-step through the process of reading music videos for signifiers that indicate demographics.

The first video we watched was always the video for Katy Perry’s “Roar.” Although the song isn’t much (nothing compared to anything off Teenage Dream, one of the great pop albums of the new century), the video is quite well constructed. Directed by Grady Hall and Mark Kudsi, it makes a reasonable effort to make Perry palatable to a potentially much larger audience after her early success with teen pop.

The video begins with a plane crash in the jungle. Perry is marooned and left to fend for herself, a process that includes turning into a distaff Tarzan and conquering nature through her indomitable will. The song itself is innocuous, a standard female-empowerment (but not tooempowered) anthem with a rhythm sufficiently ponderous to ensure it can crossover to modern adult contemporary stations (or Spotify streams). It’s been constructed primarily for a demographic roughly five-to-ten years older than the teenyboppers who rushed out to “buy” 2008’s One of the Boys. She strikes a blow for female empowerment by taming a tiger through the power of courage. She even outfits her new pet with a “Kitty Purry” collar. Of course, Perry is mostly naked throughout the video, ensuring that teenage boys (and their dads) will at least find her interesting to look at.

Every quadrant accounted for: while (assumedly) the core demographic of teenage girls is already invested due to familiarity with Perry, the message of genial if noncommittal female empowerment offers a patina of respectability for moms and older sisters. Perry’s dress, on the other hand, appeals not simply to men and boys but to girls themselves who admire her and aspire to her confidence and attractiveness. Every element of the video, including the clever winks at older viewers intimately familiar with the tropes of the jungle adventure, has been precisely calibrated to appeal to a different audience. Showing students how something as innocuous as a music video has been carefully constructed for the purpose of selling them a product – in this specific case, Perry’s music, but also Perry as a star and commodity independent of any specific hit song – was a key moment in the class. 


The second video we watched was Danny Brown’s “Grown Up.” The video, directed by Greg Brunkalla, is based around the conceit of a school-age version of Danny Brown rapping the song while on a walking tour of his neighborhood. He’s a class clown with rapid-fire delivery, and the video does an excellent job of selling him as a talented rapper with a sense of humor. It’s also a grounded video, following Brown’s child doppelganger – played by nine-year-old Dante Hoagland – on a walk through the streets of Harlem and Williamsburg. This communicates a sense of location, a necessity for new acts who often struggle to leverage regional popularity into national exposure. A rapper needs a hometown to rep, and (although it’s worth noting that Brown himself is a native of Detroit, not New York) the video asserts through its street-level focus that Brown is still a product of the neighborhoods from which he came, grounded even while striving for success. It’s a different valence of authenticity, it should be noted, than the self-excoriating misery of an Elliott Smith, but just as legible to its intended audience.


The final video we watched was Beach House’s “Wishes.” Directed by comedian Eric Wareheim, the clip defies easy categorization. Ray Wise is a ringmaster of a strange troupe of acrobats and cheerleaders who perform for the edification of an impassive crowd in a mostly empty stadium. Such a description does little to communicate the strangeness of the exquisitely produced clip, with Wise mouthing the words to an aching and languid dream pop ballad about, well, wishes. And love. Or loss? It’s difficult to tell precisely. Which is probably the point.

No one ever knew what to think of the clip. Most students appeared unimpressed, as stone-faced and silent as the crowd in the video. When I asked about the audience for this video – asking them to pull out the same kind of demographic information we had found in the previous two videos – they didn’t know and couldn’t guess. The signs and referents were alien. The sense of humor was alien. It sticks with me that at least one student found the music itself upsetting and sad. Much of the video was simply illegible to them. Most probably dismissed it as hipster bullshit. As inexact a measurement as that may be, its also not completely wrong.

I love that video, and I love that band. The class, however, did not love “Wishes,” and the majority of students found no purchase in the clip’s pervasive weirdness. They understood the effect of the video in toto was to broadcast a message that this music was simply Not For Them. It was a product produced for a highly specialized audience who can enjoy not just Wareheim’s anti-comedy, but Beach House’s gossamer synthpop. No one is born knowing either.

But that’s not what this essay is about. 

To Be Continued

*

 Part Six of an ongoing series. 

4. Someday We Will All Be Free
5. Trifles, Light As Air 

Let's Talk About What We Talk About When We
Talk About Teaching Let's Talk About Love
6.  One - The Modern Age
7. Two - Slow Decay
8. Three - A Time To Be So Small

*

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26 Feb 14:21

Meet the man who stopped thousands of people becoming HIV-positive.

Meet the man who stopped thousands of people becoming HIV-positive.
25 Feb 13:33

[tech, DW, Patreon] Cloudbleed Security Bug: Change Your DW and Patreon Passwords

Andrew Hickey

LDV is another Cloudflare site, incidentally.

25 Feb 13:31

housekeeping tips for bachelors!! bachelors, pick a path through the debris on your living room floor to this comic and read it, it's really important!!

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February 24th, 2017: EXCITING JURY DUTY UPDATE: the trial was cancelled so even though I put on a cool shirt and cleaned up nice, I didn't get to hold even a single person's fate in my all-too-fallible hands!!

– Ryan

25 Feb 13:30

Britain Elect foresees Lib Dem gains in May's local elections

by Jonathan Calder
Britain Elects has published the third in its briefings for May's elections, this one covering English authorities.

It points out that Labour's potential for making gains is limited. May's elections will largely concern county councils, which are more rural and more Conservative leaning than England in general.

And last time these seats were fought (2013) Labour had a national opinion poll lead of 7-10 points under Ed Miliband's leadership.

But what does it say about the Liberal Democrats? I hear you ask:
Cornwall, electing a hefty 123 councillors, is another one to keep an eye out for. Of the eleven council by-elections to the authority since 2013, nine changed hands, six of which to the Lib Dems. 
While very unlikely the Lib Dems will secure a majority on the council given the diverse and localised nature of Cornish politics where independents and smaller parties have robust bases of support, it’s almost certain they will retain and build upon their position as the largest party. 
Other authorities may prove fruitful for the Lib Dems. The yellows have had a history of representation in much of shire England, notably coming second to the Tories (beating Labour) back in 2009. 
It can’t be said for certain how well the Lib Dems will perform in these elections, but we should expect them to make a comeback in authorities they once were strong in: Devon, Somerset, Leicestershire, Oxfordshire, Cambridgeshire, Norfolk, Hertfordshire and the two Sussex authorities. 
Featured on Liberal Democrat VoiceTheir performance in Cambridge proper, the southern half of Norwich, Eastleigh in Hampshire, Harrogate in North Yorkshire and some portions of the West Country are worth watching as they may indicate where the Lib Dems could, if they do, make a parliamentary comeback.
25 Feb 13:29

The dark cloud on Labour’s horizon: total wipeout

by David Herdson

Just where is Labour’s floor for 2020?

One of the best political tips of the 2015 general election was to back Labour for 0-5 seats in Scotland. When William Hill first put the market up – after the independence referendum – they marked that outcome at no less than 125/1. (I apologise for not being able to namecheck the PBer who tipped the bet; I forget who it was.)

That price was a testament to the inertia of thinking as much as the inertia of politics but those who snapped up the long odds were handsomely rewarded. Those who didn’t presumably believed that such voting revolutions could not occur so quickly, ignoring that in fact it already had done. After the Scotland experience and the Copeland result, the question has to be ‘could it happen in England and Wales too?’.

The simple answer is ‘yes, it could’, though of course that doesn’t mean it will. Indeed, the crucial supplementary is ‘and if so, what are the chances?’.

Even so, the rate at which Labour is testing the capability of political commentators to find historic precedents for polling or electoral phenomena is a good indicator of the state of the party. Who would have thought that the Worcester by-election of 1878 would achieve such a renewed prominence?

One factor that makes Copeland (and Stoke) particularly significant is that they validate the opinion polls. These have been returning figures out of line with local by-elections, where the Tories have been doing a good deal worse and the Lib Dems a good deal better. We can now say with a little more confidence that for Westminster, the polling seems the more reliable.

And that polling has been dire for Labour. Close to two years after the last election, the Conservatives have a lead in at least the mid-teens, possibly the high-teens. Only the Blair 1997-2001 parliament is remotely comparable (and of course, that ended in a second landslide). Worse, since April last year – when they averaged about 32% – Labour has lost a steady half-point a month.

Projection is not prediction and we can’t assume that trend will continue but if there’s one thing that the local by-elections do prove it’s that the Lib Dems are no longer toxic. With Farron’s party still only on about 10%, there’s plenty more potential for Labour defectors. As it is, Labour is within touching distance of a post-WWII low in opposition and, though there are no polls from before the war, it’s probable that the 1983 low was the party’s worst in opposition since at least 1915*.

But there has to be a natural floor, doesn’t there? All else being equal, yes, there does. Labour has several firewalls: in London, in parts of Greater Manchester / Merseyside and in former mining or other heavy industrial areas of Yorkshire, the North East and Wales.

However, two spectral presences should stalk Labour minds. The first is 1981-3. The prospect of a formal split has receded in recent months as Corbyn’s leadership falters, his activist supporters have proven paper tigers in anything other than leadership elections and worries of mass deselections have diminished as moderates wait for the chance to go on the attack. Even so, if the left could rejuvenate, perhaps under a new leader, the risk of a formal split would once again become real. Similarly, if the Lib Dems started polling at or near Labour levels, some MPs might wonder whether the bigger risk would be to stay or to jump.

And the second, returning to the beginning, is Scotland 2015. As yet, there’s no party which could do an SNP: make wholesale inroads into the Labour vote and win 20%+ swings across the country. But maybe there doesn’t need to be. Even though UKIP fluffed their chance in Stoke on Thursday, their average national share has edged up over the last three months. The Lib Dems too are on the up. The risk is that rather than being swamped in a one-party tsunami, Labour’s coalition might just dissolve slowly but continually at the edges in all directions. There is no reason to assume that the 2020s could not be unlike what the 1920s would have been had Lloyd George and Asquith not behaved like a pair of squabbling children: a large conservative party, a large liberal one and a smaller, marginalised left-wing socialist party.

You would expect the natural checks in the system to prevent such an outcome. There are good incentives for MPs and activists to use the tools at their disposal to deliver the changes necessary to prevent disaster. However, those tools were ineffective when tried last year. Perhaps it will be second time lucky. Or perhaps Corbyn will get his act together and finally strike a chord with the public, or perhaps he’ll stand down voluntarily. If so, the country will gain an opposition again. Or perhaps not.

Inertia is a powerful anti-force in politics (as in life). Labour has huge built-in advantages that should enable it to survive the odd crisis. That said, Rome once had even bigger built-in advantages and look what civil war and self-indulgence did there. Nothing is forever.

David Herdson

p.s. I ought to apologise for anyone misled by my piece on Monday, where I tipped Labour to hold on in Copeland after my visit there last weekend. As was noted in the comments, I didn’t have chance to visit the inland parts of the constituency, which in retrospect were more staunchly Tory than I’d anticipated. Also, the final Labour leaflets on the NHS were so hard-hitting that they may have proven counterproductive; voters have a sense of fair play.

* Despite their cataclysmic result in 1931, when the National government won a majority of almost 500 and Labour was reduced to just 52 MPs, they actually polled reasonably well, winning over 30% of the vote. As they gained by-elections fairly steadily through the 1930s, it’s unlikely they dipped below that level afterwards. Much the same can be said for the 1920s: Labour polled 30%+ from 1922 on, and made gains in opposition, indicating that they would have polled higher in the interim had polls been taken. As Labour supplied ministers during the coalitions from 1915-22, we probably have to go back to at least 1915 for when Labour last polled below 23% in opposition. The one possible exception would be after the formation to the national government in 1931, when MacDonald ratted on his party. In that confused period and with Labour divided and in disarray, it’s not unreasonable to think that some very low scores might have been recorded. Unfortunately, no contested by-election occurred between the formation of the National government and the 1931 election, so we’ll never know.

24 Feb 19:10

Copeland and Stoke-on-Trent Central: What have we learned?

by TSE

It is in the nature of political junkies, like sharks, to be constantly moving forwards, and like goldfish, to be constantly forgetting what has just happened.  We should try to do better.  In the wake of two extraordinary by-elections we should reflect on their implications.  Because, as it happens this time, their implications are manifold.

The Conservatives did incredibly well

This is one of those rare occasions where the media have actually underplayed something.  The Conservatives’ victory in Copeland is off-the-scale impressive.

Others have written about how Copeland was the first government by-election gain since 1982 and how it represents a new landmark not achieved since 1960, 1929 or 1878 according to taste.  The swing to the Conservatives is bigger than that to any governing party in a by-election since at least 1950.  The last time the Conservatives achieved a gain in vote share at a by-election was 1982 in Beaconsfield (by 0.1% against a Labour candidate called Tony Blair).  In Copeland, the Conservatives put 8.5% on their vote share.

But the Conservatives also did extremely well in Stoke Central.  They started in third but far from being squeezed they put on vote share there also.  Remember, this was one of only seven occasions since 1970 where a government party has put on vote share in a by-election.  To do so from third is quite remarkable.

Bear in mind that sitting governments normally do much better at general elections than in by-elections and the Conservatives are potentially heading for a landslide that would far eclipse 1983 and perhaps 1997.

UKIP now lack meaning

Stoke Central was supposed to be UKIP’s big opportunity.  A seat where they were already in second place with a relatively small swing required for victory, where they had a substantial existing vote share and where Leave had won overwhelmingly, it was by my reckoning in their top ten most promising targets.  But they made no real progress towards winning it.

It would be easy to lay the blame on the candidate.  Certainly he did not help.  Paul Nuttall, through his strained relationship with the truth, seemed to put the nut into Nuttall and in doing so he ensured that UKIP got the all out of f-all.

That would be easy, but it would be far from the whole story.  The Conservatives gained vote share in Stoke Central – even though they started third.  In some ways this was even more astonishing than their victory in Copeland.  By taking ownership of Brexit, the Conservatives have deprived UKIP of meaning.  You might very well argue that represents a victory for UKIP’s ideas, but as an electoral force the purple team now look marooned.

The Lib Dems are barely off the canvass in Leave-voting seats

The Lib Dems have been doing very perkily in local council by-elections and had put in excellent performances in the Parliamentary by-elections in Witney and Richmond Park.  But while they have increased vote share in Sleaford & North Hykeham, Copeland and Stoke Central, they have only done so from deposit-losing levels to barely respectable levels.  They were not remotely in contention in any of these three seats, despite rushes of enthusiasm from their activists (particularly in Stoke Central).

The Lib Dems have sought to position themselves as the party of Remain.  In Leave-voting seats, they have yet to succeed.  Worse, in the 1980s, they were able to scoop all of the None Of The Above vote for themselves.  With the advent of UKIP and the Greens, the NOTA party is not a single party any more.

It’s important to keep perspective.  The Lib Dems have improved markedly in Remain areas.  18 months ago they seemed completely irrelevant everywhere. They have work to do in Leave areas if they are going to be anything more than almost completely irrelevant. But at least they have some areas of relevance now.

Labour are in very very serious trouble

It is hard to overstate just how bad the Copeland result was for Labour.  They didn’t just lose, they were soundly beaten by the Conservatives.  They lost vote share in both Copeland and Stoke Central (and if the combined Conservative/UKIP vote had been as unevenly divided in Stoke Central as it was in Copeland, they would have lost both seats).  It’s unfair to compare Jeremy Corbyn’s performance with the 1997 results -– no one is expecting him to win a landslide – but it’s reasonable to compare his performance with 2005, a fairly run-of-the-mill overall majority.  In under 12 years Labour have lost over a quarter of their vote share in both constituencies.

Since the referendum vote, Labour have lost vote share at every seriously contested by-election.  Opposition parties should be gaining vote share at by-elections in all bar the most extreme circumstances.  The circumstances are extreme.

If any Labour supporters are comforting themselves that at least UKIP were seen off in Stoke Central, they are deluding themselves.  In almost every constituency, the Conservatives are their real opponents.  Both these results showed the Conservatives are doing unbelievably well.

If Labour are to avoid a defeat that exceeds that of the Conservatives in 1997 for severity, they need to act fast.  Time is not on their side.

Alastair Meeks

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24 Feb 19:08

#1295; The Right Tool for the Chop

by David Malki

To be honest, at a certain point liking everything ABOUT chopping is indistinguishable from liking, you know, CHOPPING

24 Feb 18:41

Ten Things Which America Doesn't Really Get

by noreply@blogger.com (Lawrence Burton)

Bacon. It's all streaky. I once encountered proper bacon in an establishment describing itself as an English style pub, and was so surprised I had to get the waitress to ask the chef where he bought it. Apparently he had it flown in from North Carolina.

On a similarly carnivorous theme, lamb isn't particularly popular over here either, meaning kebab shops are sadly few and far between. There are a couple of Mediterranean places which do a decent doner kebab, but they never quite get the pita bread right, or the chili sauce, or the fat, grumpy bloke who calls you my friend but otherwise refuses to speak English following a long, long evening of being addressed as Stavros by horizontally-inclined beer enthusiasts.

Beer. Sadly no-one in America ever just nipped down the road for a pint, so it has come to be regarded as an exotic practice. Beer tends to come in bottles, either your regular swill or artisan beverages with knowingly stupid names like Burst Radiator or Enraged Skinhead, most of which taste like what you get when touching the two terminals of a standard nine volt battery to your tongue. Bars - which are what we have instead of pubs - tend to serve either Miller Lite or Budweiser, neither of which really count as beer; excepting the fancier places serving Burst Radiator, Enraged Skinhead and others on tap to men who spend the evening talking about different kinds of shit beer. In England I generally encountered unorthodox beers in a pub, usually by means of a decision-making process concluding with the words, fuck it - I may as well have a pint of that, I suppose, whereas here the activity seems spiritually closer to stamp collecting. This is why I stick to Mexican beer, and because it actually is beer.

Civilisation. This entry was going to be Government, but then I'm not sure any country really has the hang of that one, and the broader heading allows for discussion of contributing factors. Colonial America was founded seemingly with the intention of getting around the problems of what happens when you have hereditary leadership, meaning no Kings or Queens and that the job of President should go to whoever the people generally feel is best suited. Unfortunately this now amounts to who can afford the most effective advertising campaign, meaning it's usually the upper classes, in turn meaning that we're slipping back towards a dynastic model of leadership. This is justified by the erroneous notion of how those with the most money must be really amazing to have earned their fortune and are therefore well-suited to telling the rest of us what to do. All sorts of factors have contributed to the evolution of the English upper classes, and not all of them necessarily meaning we get terrible people at the end of the process. Some may be arseholes, but I've met a fair few who aren't, and who are very much aware of the mechanism of their privilege and who tend to have genuinely benefited from an expensive education - as you would hope. Here, on the other hand, being upper class is just a case of having a shitload of money, regardless of how it was obtained, and the American upper classes are pretty much just Terry and June from the English sitcom of the same name but with a mammoth bank balance. I know this, having stood behind them in queues and listened to their gormless conversations about Bon Jovi and alt-country and the Obama dictatorship and a better standard of person in their shitty golfing slacks. This is why socialism has become a bad word amongst those who have no actual experience of it and don't really quite understand what it means, namely because our upper classes are people who genuinely believe that money makes everything right, and that the best deal is the most popular, simplest, and therefore the cheapest - which as anyone who ever shopped at the Dollar Store will tell you is not necessarily the case.

Here's the thing with socialism: if you want to be a part of civilisation, then you are obliged to pay taxes as a contribution to that civilisation, given that the civilisation in question is about more than just you. Taxes pay for roads, emergency services, and general infrastructure, and it really isn't down to you to decide who deserves what, and it is about the whole rather than what's directly in it for any one person. If you don't wish to pay taxes or be part of civilisation, that's fine. You have the option of fucking off to the forest or the mountains or else discovering your own country using a road you've laid yourself rather than one of the ones we paid to have built for you, and you should be ready to generate your own electricity when you get there.

Any civilisation worthy of the term tends to be comprised of people who make things and do stuff rather than spending their time asking what do I get out of this? or whining about how political correctness is destroying their lives.

Law Enforcement. My experience with the police force in England has generally been consistent with the idea that whilst there are doubtless a few bad 'uns, these are persons who have somehow eluded rigorous checks in what is otherwise a fairly extensive training program. I could be wrong about this, but I sometimes get the impression that the training procedure of our police force is a guy who asks would you like a gun? Hopefully I'm very much mistaken.

North-East. England has Newcastle-upon-Tyne, home of the greatest accent known to man, and we get fucking New York. You'll know if you've ever met someone from New York because they will have told you about a million times and will have pronounced it Noo Yawk Cidee in an attempt to be cute. Additionally they will probably have described the place as some sort of free-thinking utopia in a land otherwise dominated by record-burning Ku Klux Klansmen who hate black people, improvised jazz, and anything resembling Communism. The only New Yorkers I like tend to be rap artists, persons such as MOP, current title holders of the world's greatest improvised exhortation to party heard on a rap record, which was bang your head against the wall, come on! during some song on the Warriorz album. Those guys can do no wrong so far as I'm concerned.

Pork Pies. I only get the craving once a year, and I could possibly purchase one from a certain mail order outfit specialising in fancy foreign foods, but the $70 refrigerated shipping cost is prohibitive considering that I'd probably eat half of the thing and then go off the idea, as I have done in the past. My dad always used to have a pork pie for Christmas morning which was apparently part of some tradition, although I don't know if it was just him or whether it's some more widespread observance. Here in San Antonio we traditionally have pork tamales on Christmas morning. A tamale is made from maize flour - and pork in this case - steamed in a corn husk. They're from Mexico and of pre-Colombian origin; and they're okay, but it just isn't the same.

Come to think of it, the cakes are all a bit weird too - kind of dry and far too sweet and always with that cream from a fucking spray can. Greggs should seriously think about opening up over here. They'd make a killing.

Rebellion. This is something with which American teenagers - or sometimes older people - engage between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. The epitomy of American teenage revolution is Michael J. Fox dancing to Depeche Mode on the hood of a car stalled in gridlocked traffic and in doing so teaching the grown-ups a thing or two about what it means to be young. Rebellion generally occurs once you're done with the scouts and before you get a job selling car insurance to those seduced by advertising for Dodge vehicles. Sometimes it's difficult to believe that this is the same country which came up with Elvis, the Ramones, and MOP.

Ska. As Wikipedia is my witness, Ska is a musical genre that originated in Jamaica in the late fifties and was the precursor to rocksteady and reggae, combining elements of Caribbean mento and calypso with American jazz and rhythm and blues. It is characterized by a walking bass line accented with rhythms on the off-beat. It isn't, and nor will it ever be, twelve white dudes from Vermont in pork pie hats playing a song with a chorus sounding more like U2 than Prince Buster. Sorry. I don't make the rules.

Sweets. Candy always sounds like a euphemism for something illegal, and in a few cases it actually is. Our chocolate bars mostly taste like the supermarket's own brand products, and I'm talking Wavy Line or Happy Shopper rather than Waitrose. We have Cadbury's, but mostly sold only in stores frequented by a better standard of person and accessible only by means of vehicular transport.

Vehicular Transport. If you don't drive in America you're pretty much screwed unless you're conveniently married to someone who does, as I am. It's easy enough to walk around the centre of whichever town or city you may be in, but I would guess there are not many people living in the centre of their town or city. Most of us are in the suburbs where there's no nipping down to the shop on the corner for a can of pop and a pork pie, or even a tamale. Given this heavy emphasis on automotive travel, you might think this would be an area in which America excels, but sadly no. The extent and scale of our roads and highways combined with a population density much lower than that of the United Kingdom means that a traffic jam is something to be endured for slow moving minutes rather than stationary hours, but America has chosen to compensate for this relative freedom by having everyone drive trucks the size of your average fishing trawler. The fucking things are enormous, resembling giant Tonka toys, and whilst I can see one might justify such gargantuan vessels on a ranch, or if engaged in a business requiring that one travel with a fleet of lawnmowers in the back, otherwise there's really no excuse. Dental assistants are rarely required to convey injured bison back from the creek so far as I am aware, so they most likely choose enormous trucks as compensation for some deficiency, although obviously I have no idea what that could be.

A recent television commercial for the Dodge motor company shows actors portraying the Dodge brothers - Horace and John - magically transported from 1914, newsboy caps and all, leering with joy at their legacy of giant-sized Hot Wheels cars pulling wheelies and revving engines. Their joy is clear from lurid smiles comparable to those of fetishists who take sexual pleasure from pooing in their own pants and who have presently done just that. The commercial is hard to watch, and it's annoying, and I guess the assumption is that rest of us are expected to want to share in this sort of excitement.
24 Feb 18:38

...and Ten Things Which America Does Just Fine

by noreply@blogger.com (Lawrence Burton)

Art. Before anyone starts, I'm not referring to Jackson Pollock or Mark Rothko - both of whom are probably more interesting in terms of art history than what they actually painted; and I'm definitely not talking about Andy bloody Warhol. After many years of study I've concluded that fine art should be divided into two main categories, specifically landscape art, and everything which isn't landscape art. Even a century later, the first and foremost of these two categories is still dominated by the work of Thomas Cole, Albert Bierstadt, and others of the Hudson River School - if you ask me, which admittedly you didn't, which is why I'm telling you. José María Velasco should probably also be included here on the grounds of his having been the greatest landscape artist of all time. He was Mexican of course, but it's the same continental land mass. Landscape doesn't really get any better than the three aforementioned so far as I'm concerned. Some of that European stuff was okay, but hanging one next to a Bierstadt is like having the Venga Boys open for Led Zeppelin, quite frankly.

I've failed to take any non-landscape based art into account in this argument because it's mostly shite and doesn't matter.

Dangerous Arseholes. Sadly this isn't really a boast, but it cannot be denied that we lead the world in the field of dangerous arseholes, and despite stiff competition from the United Kingdom, Russia and the Islamic State, we've recently leapt ahead quite some way. Many of the world's leading trigger-happy fundamentalist shitheads now regard us with awe and envy, having found themselves suddenly seeming about as dangerous as characters from Harry Potter. I'm not sure why this should be, particularly as we have a constitution which is supposed to prevent the sort of situation in which we now find ourselves. Part of the problem may result from people who've never been under any pressure to grow up or to think adult thoughts. We seem to have a few of those, and once they get into any kind of position of authority, it's always trouble. Whilst I'm sure the Republican party was founded on at least some honourable principles - providing we don't look too hard at how capitalism actually works, and is actually shown to work by the last two centuries of history - it seems very difficult to find a Republican who appears significantly informed by those principles, whatever they are or were. Mostly Republicans just seem to be guys who like money and authority, because authority is the thing which means they get to keep their money. Online Republicans tend to spend a lot of time going on about freedom, freedom from government interference, freedom from taxation, being oneself, being an individual, being a rugged cowboy out on the lonesome trail answering to no man, no how, no siree; and yet in person, send a man in uniform into the room and they can't bend over backwards fast enough to kiss his ass, call him a real American hero, and loudly address him as Sir, Yes Sir! Also, for lovers of freedom, they sure have a lot to say about what the rest of us get up to in the privacy of our own homes. It wouldn't be so bad if there was some kind of organised opposition to this tendency, but instead there's the Democrat party which stands for the same thing whilst feeling a bit guilty about it. Almost all of our dangerous arseholes conform to some quality detailed here, with minor variations being in ratios of gun ownership and fear of anything different to oneself.
 
Healthy Geographical Distance from the Following: Timothy Griffiths, Shaun Robert, Theresa May, David Yeomans, Nigel Farage, Benedict Cumberbatch, Jeremy Clarkson, James Delingpole, Razorlight, Boris Johnson, James Whitaker, Hugh Grant, Harry Potter, that pair of fucking twats who opened up a café specialising in cornflakes in Hackney or wherever it was, Hamilton Bohannon*, Tony Wakeford, Chris Evans, Steven Moffat, David Gibson, Bob of Bulkington near Coventry, anyone who ever won or was nominated for the Turner Prize, Radiohead, Paul Mercer, Miriam Rahim, Tunstall Asaf, Juliet Prouse, Dennis Landers, Franklin from The Sun, Jimmy Savile, Billie Piper, Richard Callaghan, Supergrass, The One Show, Margaret Thatcher, General Pinochet, Marcus Brigstocke, Dennis Cattell, Marian Galton, Ludwig the mechanical cartoon egg thing from the seventies, Jamie Oliver, James Nesbitt, Stephen Frost, Alexis Petridis, Alexander McCall Smith, Electric Light Orchestra, Hamilton Bohannon*, Hamilton Bohannon*, Hamilton Bohannon*, Matt Smith, Harley Richardson, The Archers, anyone who ever observed that the shipping forecast sounds a bit like poetry...

History. One of my favourite examples of online sneering is the Britsplanation of American history which runs that we don't have any because the country is only two-hundred years old, whilst simultaneously lambasting our supposed assumption of there having been nothing much to speak of before white people turned up. I've always found American history fascinating, particularly all the stuff predating Christopher Colombus colonising a completely different and much smaller landmass whilst simultaneously wiping out the sum total of its indigenous population; and while it would be an exaggeration to suggest that this interest is why I ended up in Texas, it is at least why my gaze was already trained upon this part of the globe. I never found English or European history particularly exciting, and most of it seems to have been heavy metal wrestling mascots fighting over different kinds of mud in the pissing rain, parallel to which Mexico was engaged in building an elegant, philosophically sophisticated, and criminally misunderstood civilisation; and the people here in the northern continental blob were no less worthy of note. The Tuzigoot ruins in Arizona, for example, are at least as impressive as anything built by the Normans, and they were at the northern end of a trade route stretching all the way down into South America without anyone having bothered to invent the wheel, but you know - wurgh wurgh wurgh two-hundred years old wurgh wurgh wurgh Egbert of Wessex Magna Carta boring churches blah blah blah...

Hope. My life in England was often about getting by, making do, holding out and hoping the check would come before the bailiffs as everything became steadily worse, wetter, harder, and an ever more steely shade of battleship grey. English society had become, in my experience, a treadmill designed to keep me alive and generating just enough money to pay for the things which it told me had to be paid. Under circumstances other than those in which I happily find myself, America would probably be the same, but it feels like a country which is at least trying. We have our problems, not least being dangerous arseholes, but it at least feels like this place has the potential for improvement, like it wants the best for its people on some level, even when the actions fail to match the words. It is a land in which we still have possibilities beyond the crushing promise of the future being the present but with more security checkpoints. I thought this was just me until a couple of similarly transplanted online individuals expressed more or less the same sentiment on facebook, and one of them was Wreckless Eric so fuck you.

Kiss. One thing about America is that we do big and stupid really well, as I'm sure even our harshest critics would agree. Of course, it's important to remember that sometimes big and stupid is good - great even, and for evidence of this one need listen no further than the recorded oeuvre of Kiss. Whatever argument you may wish to draw against the excellence of Kiss vanishes as unto dew upon a summer's morn once you actually listen to Kiss. No-one really understands how this works. It just does.

Mexican Food. You really need to be here to appreciate Mexican food, either in Mexico itself or a little way from the border. That stuff you eat in London in some overpriced glass box named Zapata and served by an eighteen-year old wearing luminous orange tights and with the beard of W.G. Grace - it isn't Mexican food. It's probably just salad with a shake of Tabasco sauce, which is something else, and will remain something else regardless of how many traditional Aztec rocker-stamp animals are printed down the margin on the menu. Mexican food isn't about slopping four gallons of sour cream and guacamole over a bag of Doritos. I've seen counter arguments amounting to huh - can't see what's so difficult about chopping up a few tomatoes, but you really have to eat the genuine article to appreciate the difference. I don't even know what informs this difference given that the ingredients are all fairly straightforward, and yet what you eat over here in the Mexican equivalent of a greasy spoon - formica tables, plastic forks, radio tuned to some horrible Tejano station - makes most allegedly Mexican food I've eaten in England seem fussy, ridiculous, overpriced, and most likely prepared by someone who never actually ate Mexican food. You'll just have to trust me on this one. I don't understand it either.

Nature. I grew up on a farm in Warwickshire, in the very bosom of nature, you might say, and I grew up as part of a generation which spent most of its time outside in wellies. I saw rabbits and foxes, but not very often. I don't recall seeing frogs until I moved to London in my late twenties. I never saw a snake, and the only badgers I have ever encountered have been the lifeless two-dimensional kind found at the side of major roads. I've had this sort of conversation with overly defensive English people on a number of occasions. I'll mention the millions of bats I watched swarming from beneath the Congress Avenue Bridge in Austin at sunset, and Timothy will be reminded of the bat he once saw at a Happy Eater just outside Daventry and will thus dominate the rest of the conversation with discourse on the same. 'Of course, they're mostly pipistrelle bats around our way,' he'll inform me at pornographic length, apparently having forgotten that I lived in England up until five years ago. 'Pippies, we call them.'

Anyway, I now encounter snakes, turtles, lizards, deer, possums, vultures, wild turkeys, roadrunners, coyotes, stick insects, and raccoons, and half of those on a near daily basis. Some of the snakes are of a kind which could kill me should I be bitten and unable to reach a hospital. I've encountered at least one turtle which could have bitten off my fingers had I got too close; so these days I even know which turtles are safe to pick up and how to do so without having them piss all over me - which they tend to do. I have more nature than I know what to do with. I have nature coming out of my ass, if you'll pardon the expression.

Proximity to Mexico. We're right next to Mexico, and England really isn't. If you don't believe me you can look it up on a map. Here in Texas we're so right next to Mexico that we can drive for about an hour and then look directly at it from across the other side of the river. Of course, this might change if our new President gets to build his wall, despite that it won't make much difference to immigration - if we're going to keep on pretending that that's really a problem for the sake of argument. Personally I'm hoping he'll get confused and build the wall along the top of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, thus making our part of America Mexico again. He can keep California though. I'm not too bothered about that one.

Sunshine. When I say America, I suppose I actually mean Texas - or Mexico Norteño as I like to think of it; and Texas has a lot of sunshine. That half a week of the English August during which it only rains in the morning doesn't really compare.

*: Names withheld because I can't be bothered to argue with the fuckers should any of them ever resurface from the netherworld of perception.
24 Feb 16:58

Looking at the Writing Advice

by dwsmith

Very Seldom Do You Get a Stage Four Writer Being Honest…

Most either play into the myths for fear of hurting their own writing sales or they say nothing. Some figure their way of doing things is just their way and would never work for anyone else.

But Joe Lansdale, in a very simple article, sort of carefully told the truth about his writing.

If you haven’t read it yet either from an original source or my earlier post, do so now.

The Rules of Being a Professional Writer

He started off by giving only two simple rules that I completely agree with. One, you must read. Second, you must write.

It stuns me how many writers miss on both of these and yet claim they want to be professional writers. Can’t begin to tell you how many newer writers I run into that flat don’t read or haven’t read since they started trying to write.

And it stuns me even more (a topic around here regularly) how new writers think they can write very little, work on the same book for ten years, and get better. Doesn’t work that way. As Joe said, you must read and you must write.

Two simple rules.

He then goes on to talk about things that help. He starts off “You have to be excited about what you write.” I call that never writing to market unless you are passionate about the topic of the market. Write what you love, what entertains you. Or as Stephen King says, what scares you to death. Passion, excitement. Joe and I agree completely once again.

I say it in other ways as well. I warn people to keep the writing fun, keep the life events out of the writing, never call writing work. I spend a lot more time and words saying what Joe said simply. He’s good that way.

He tells you to not quit your day job at first. Yup. Kris’s column is about that this week in a way. Writing is a long-term learning experience, both on the business and the craft sides. Give it the time. Don’t put pressure on it at first.

Joe says he has a regular schedule, does regular pages.

And he flat says he avoids multiple drafts. That they confuses him. Yup, they confuse and bore me as well. And he had to learn how to teach himself to write when he traveled. You folks just watched me do that. (grin)

His “polish” at the end, as he says, is seldom a heavy rewrite. I agree. I fix typos and things Kris finds and cut out loops that don’t work. That’s my polish. Doesn’t take long and I agree, I never make any change Kris suggests that I don’t agree with.

And he doesn’t plot and he writes from his own life. Yup. Took a long time for Kris to pound through my head that my strongest stories were set right here in the world I know.

And he ends by saying to never write for other people. “Write like everyone you know is dead.”

Exactly. Write what makes you happy.

And damn, I think I just spent more words agreeing with Joe than he used writing the article. Go figure. (grin)

24 Feb 16:57

Some Help If You Can for Ted White

by dwsmith

Yes, one of the great editors in the history of science fiction and fantasy needs a little help. I was surprised when I saw this pop up tonight. I did not realize Ted was still alive. And that he is only 13 years older than I am.

I never managed to sell him anything, but still liked him.

Now it appears he needs a little help, so click on the link and read his letter and see if you can spare a few bucks to help him stay in his childhood home.

https://www.gofundme.com/44r62-save-my-house

24 Feb 12:33

I can't keep up

by Charlie Stross

I got home from a business trip on Tuesday morning, was a jet-lagged zombie for 24 hours, and between Wednesday morning and now (Friday morning) I have learned:

A new way of exfiltrating data from an air-gapped computer potentially uses malware to modulate the drive activity LED on a PC, which can then be monitored by a drone hovering outside the office window: this is apparently capable of getting up to 6kbps of data off a computer without any physical connection or leaving any signs in device access logs (because it relies on the timing of drive i/o activity).

The North Korean assassins who killed Kim Jong-nam allegedly used VX nerve agent by getting local women who thought they were working for a comedy show to smear it on his face. (Secondary reports say that it was a binary agent, and each woman applied a different precursor: given the nature of VX precursors this seems unlikely, but VX itself could have plausibly been applied by hand. (If confirmed, this falls into the "Polonium 210 is so mundane!" school of baroque state assassination tools.)

Finally, for your delectation, there are people who think this is a good way to deal with Donald Trump (well, if it makes them feel better) ... my only question is, which open source license are they using?

Really, 2017 so far feels like it's fallen out of a novel I wrote in an alternate time line round about 2005, while evidently depressed and suffering from unstabilized hypertension. Or maybe it's just that we swapped out the scriptwriters who showed up in 2001—the ghosts of George Orwell and Philip K. Dick—for a crew led by John Sladek and John Brunner.

23 Feb 15:43

The Best Trolley Problem Yet

by Blake Stacey

You can punch a neo-Nazi who might fall onto the switch lever, which might divert the train away from millions of people, or you can do nothing. Choose.

From Stephanie Zvan.

23 Feb 14:43

Chances are that following the betting on by-election days won’t tell you anything and could be costly

by Mike Smithson

The final 12 hours of betting on Richmond Park

Above is a chart showing the Betfair exchange prices on the day of December’s Richmond Park by-election. As can be seen those who were following the betting for their inspiration would have got it wrong until about 11:30 p.m.

At that point, it will be recalled, the TV news programmes started reporting that Labour campaigners were suggesting that the Lib Dems had gained the seat by majority of about 2000. As it turned out that was a slight overestimate but the prediction of which way was correct.

Those who had followed betting before that time and had assumed that somehow the market knew what was going on ended up losing money.

I publish this as a warning to punters betting on today’s by elections in Stoke central and Copeland. Nobody really will know anything until at least an hour after polls have closed at 10 o’clock.

The turnout figures could be a good pointer but early guesses and what they mean could be be misleading.

Longstanding PBers might recall the February 2006 Dunfermline by-election. The final price matched on Betfair seconds before the returning officer announced the result had LAB with an 83% chance. The red team lost.

Mike Smithson

Follow @MSmithsonPB

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23 Feb 00:22

let the record show that I was correct not once, not twice, but THREE different non-consecutive times

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February 22nd, 2017: For future historians - this is what's being referred to in panel three!

Today I've got jury duty! Will I be selected? Will my EXTREME THIRST FOR JUSTICE disqualify me? FIND OUT IN A FEW DAYS!!

– Ryan

22 Feb 23:51

ASK me

by evanier

An up-and-coming cartoon voice actor sent me this question and asked that I leave his name out of it…

I was in the audience at one of your Cartoon Voices panels in San Diego, wishing I was established enough to be up there on the stage with the pros. I heard you make a remark that intrigued me and I was wondering if you could elaborate.

I have watched as the industry has transitioned from hand-drawn animation to computer animation and I never imagined that would affect the voice actors. After all, a voice role is a voice role, right? But I heard you say offhandedly that casting voice actors for CGI shows is different from casting them for hand-drawn shows and I can't imagine how. Can you tell me how?

Well, it may seem like a small thing but it does matter. My job in casting is to do the show right with as few actors as we need to pay to come in. As is allowed by the Screen Actors Guild contract, many of those actors will do two or three parts.  Some of the actors in the session will be regulars — folks who voice characters who are in every episode. They may double or triple and do "incidentals" (characters unique to each episode) but I will probably also need a few guest actors to do all the incidentals.

Let's say in a scene for one cartoon, I as the writer want to have a two policemen walk in and each say two lines and exit. Piece o' cake. I describe the policemen I want the artists to draw and they draw them. I as the voice director assign the roles to two of the actors in my session. Simple.  At least, that's how it was in a hand-drawn show.  It was very cheap to bring in a new character so there were a lot of them.

But with CGI animation, every character is a computer model that has to be designed from every possible angle. We need to design them from the back even if you only see them from the front. Someone builds a fully functional computer model and that costs a heap of money. So instead of spending the dough to design two policemen, I have one do it. Right there, there's less for actors to do and if I think small that way throughout, I might need one or two less actors in the session.

Plus, there's this: If you watch a CGI show, you'll notice that if a policeman walks into a scene in one episode, it's usually the same policeman who walked into the last episode. If there's a TV newswoman, it's usually the same TV newswoman. If you look carefully at most crowd scenes, you may notice a lot of "extras" who were major characters in other episodes because each different figure is expensive.

So CGI shows generally have fewer characters per episode…ergo, fewer voice jobs.  And the jobs you do have are usually spread around among fewer actors.

Let's say in Show #1, I have that policeman and since guest actor Victor Voiceover is in that episode playing a big role, I have him also do the two lines as the policeman. Then two shows later, I write an episode about a race of Worm People. The big guest role is that of their leader but one scene calls for a policeman to walk in and say a few lines. On a hand-drawn show, it would probably be a different policeman so it wouldn't matter who did his voice and I could hire any actor.

But in the CGI show, it's going to be the same policeman and often the producers want to keep the voices on repeat characters consistent…so I hire Victor to do guest voices on that episode so he can do the policeman's lines. And of course, since he's there and we're paying him, I think, "Hey, Vic would be great as The Leader of the Worm People" so I assign him that role and he also does the three lines as a pizza delivery guy. And then the week after, since we spent all that cash designing Worm People, I bring them back again, which means I bring Victor back again.

And then a few shows later, I build the main storyline about that pizza delivery guy since we spent so much money making his computer model…and that means we bring Victor back yet again.  Over the course of thirteen episodes, I might need to book Victor eight times to do guest voices.  In a hand-drawn show, I might have had twice as many guest roles and spread them around among a greater number of actors.

There's nothing really different about what the actors do in a CGI show as compared to a cartoon drawn by hand. There's just fewer characters, which means fewer jobs, and a tendency to hire the same folks over and over for guest roles.

Got a question you want me to answer on this blog?
Send it here. No politics, no personal replies...
and tell me if you want me to leave your name out of it.

The post ASK me appeared first on News From ME.

22 Feb 13:06

Placeholder? Placeholder!

by Charlie Stross

Yeah, so I haven't been blogging for more than a week. Sorry 'bout that; I had a guest blogger lined up for while I was traveling, but they turned out to be a no-show and I was too busy to take time out from work.

This week's excuse is that "The Delirium Brief" is being typeset twice—separately for the US and UK releases—and the US page proofs landed in my inbox with a thud and a very short deadline which is going to keep me busy for the rest of this week once I'm over the jetlag.

Note that this isn't a separate edit; the US and UK editions were edited and copy-edited in a common process and share the same spelling, grammar, and word-shaped objects. But the US and UK publishers (who are two different companies who just happened to buy the respective territorial rights to publish the work on their own patch) decided to typeset the copy-edited manuscript independently of one another, which means I need to check a second set of page proofs for errors. It a while to plough through a 400 page book; even if you're just treating it as a reading text and can read at a page a minute, that's nearly seven hours—and checking page proofs for typos and errors is somewhat slower and more laborious. (Normally one publisher takes the lead on production and the others just buy in the typesetting files, but because of [REDACTED] that ain't viable this time round, hence the last-minute round of extra work.)

So normal blogging will probably wait until next week, and I'm going to be scarce in the comments for a bit.

Oh, that reminds me: some of you are wondering if I had any trouble entering the United States, right?

The answer to that is "not really"—the usual questions asked by the Immigration officer at the airport has merely grown by one ("Have you visited any of these countries: Syria, Iraq ..."), and by the time my interrogator got to "Afghanistan" I was visibly finding it so hard not to snigger that he just shrugged and waved me through.

But leaving the United States was a little more troubling.

I always opt out of being scanned by a body scanner on general principle; I think it's an annoying, ineffective, intrusive waste of time and I want to signal my disapproval by not cooperating. The TSA have a set theatrical routine for dealing with opt-outs that requires you to stand in the naughty corner while someone shouts "we've gotta male opt-out!" and some other poor guy has to pull on latex gloves and give you a massage.

It turns out that a couple of weeks ago the TSA rolled out a new pat down process that seems designed to ... well, some folks would pay good money for it, but the main effect seems to be intended to embarrass and deter body-shy people from opting out. I am not body-shy, at least in well-understood/controlled circumstances like a search at a security checkpoint or a naturist club, so the main effect in my case was to embarrass the dude following the orders to pat down my crotch.

But I think it's highly suggestive that this idiotic measure surfaced while everyone was agitated over Trump's ban on people entering the USA from majority-muslim countries that weren't major Trump business partners, and I am now wondering: what other low-key "administrative measures" slid by under the radar while we were all distracted by one act or another in the Washington DC puppet show?

21 Feb 15:20

Language Log weighs in on ‘two mini-donuts’

by David Malki

The blog Language Log has occasionally proffered comment on Wondermark episodes that touch on matters of language.

So I was interested to see that a robust discussion emerged around last month’s “In which a Run is made”, posted as Wondermark #1287:

click for a closer look

Normally I don’t have much commentary to add about the content of my comics — nothing kills a joke faster than explaining it to death.

But in this case, I’m both tickled that people are interested enough to try and dissect it, and also I’ve noticed that not everyone gets what’s happening here.

So I thought in this case I’d dig into it a little, and address some of the specific comments people have made about this particular strip.

In the comic, the person at the desk (let’s call him Desmond) asks the soon-to-be-wheelbarrow person (let’s call him Willy) to pick him up “two mini-donuts”.

However, it comes to pass that Willy heard this as “too many donuts”, and instead, fetches Desmond THAT. What a helpful sort! And what a pickle we leave them in!!

Some comments:

In the first frame, it’s contradictory for the donut-fetcher to ask “That gonna be enough?” [Given how he heard it,] Too many must be more than enough.

Willy is playing along, making a joke. Sometimes I just have to trust that sarcasm or figurative language will come through from context, in a way that the rhythm of the dialogue will inform.

Mini and Many don’t overlap for me, especially when I was reading the cartoon. Had to read the explanations to get the joke.

I pride myself on getting most jokes, and I read every Wondermark, but I have to admit that I read and re-read this strip several times in an attempt to understand it. I was frustrated in this until I read the title of this post. But…those words aren’t homophones!

(I’m from New York. Now I am curious to find where David Malki ! is from.)

The crux of the discussion seems to be whether these two phrases are really homophones; and if so, where and in what accent; and if the joke is understandable if one’s own internal accent doesn’t “hear” those two phrases to sound alike.

That is all quite fair! I speak (and often write) with my own particular accent. Here is my personal regional dialect “heat map” from the New York Times’ adaptation of the Harvard Dialect Survey:

I have no word for 'crawdad' as I have never seen one in the wild

That makes sense, as that’s precisely the part of the country in which I was born and raised. Even so, my mom grew up in Washington state, and my wife and her family are from Washington state, so I surely have some influence from them as well.

In fact, as I recall, this particular idea came to me in conversation with my wife. Her and my accent are largely the same but not quite. But either of us could plausibly hear someone make the sounds “Too minny” and know it to mean “Too many”.

I think I’d also stress “two mini-donuts” and “too many donuts” differently (treating “mini-donuts” as a compound with primary stress on “mi”, not an adjective + noun phrase with the stress on “do”), which probably didn’t help.

Which makes me wonder, is there a tendency for people to interpret “mini” as an adjective, rather than a nominal prefix like “micro”? Since it seems to be the former for David Malki and the latter for me.

Like Zeppelin, I can’t shake the internal feeling that “too many donuts” and “two mini-donuts” would be fairly distinct prosodically. I feel like “two mini-donuts” highlights the first syllable of “mini”, and “too many donuts” highlights the first syllable of “donuts”.

The question posed here is whether the mini-donuts in question are “mini donuts” (adjective + noun) or “minidonuts” (compound noun).

I think the hyphen is necessary orthographically, but it doesn’t make it clear whether it’s one or the other — and the commenters here are suggesting that whether it’s one or the other will dictate how it’s prounounced, and therefore how likely the term is to be misinterpreted by Willy.

But context might also affect pronunciation. If everyone else were getting donuts, and Desmond wanted especially small donuts, he might ask for “MINI-donuts”, with stress on “mi”.

If, however, mini-donuts were a relatively common thing on the menu, Desmond might simply emphasize how many he wanted: in this case, “TWO mini-donuts.” That’s how I hear the phrase in my head.

In addition: consider that Desmond is under deadline. He’s got reports due before lunch. He’s got Anderson riding his tail for that expense spreadsheet. He’s not enunciating every word. He’s mumbling that he wants “toominnydonuts”.

Know how I know that’s true? Because if that wasn’t how it happened, Willy probably wouldn’t have misheard him! You gotta work backwards from the facts we know.

The question, then, perhaps shouldn’t be “Would Willy really have misheard him?”, but rather, “Given that he did mishear him (it’s right there in the fourth panel), what does that imply about Willy, Desmond, or the situation overall?”

True comics fans know how to read forensically. It really clues you in to a much richer level of character development.

It took me a little while when I first encountered it. What I find interesting is that folks (like me) without the pin-pen merger have trouble identifying the joke, and yet I’m pretty sure (like Mark) that even for those without the merger, the two phrases would be difficult to reliably distinguish in actual speech. That is to say, I think if this were an audible Who’s-on-First-style sketch, the ambiguity would work for most people.

What this suggests, of course, is that when reading we don’t fully translate the words into sounds. (No doubt this is a well-studied area of cognitive science.)

I had no idea what this cartoon meant. Although I do not have the pin/pen merger, I also do not think this cartoon is about that merger. Instead, it is about another pronunciation anomaly I have often wondered about, namely how we came to pronounce the words many and any with the meh vowel (or conversely, why we spell them with an a).

The pin/pen merger mentioned here is common in dialect of the American south. It describes one trait of an accent in which the vowels in pin and pen sound the same.

But as the commenters above mention, I think the words any and many stand outside that particular trait. I pronounce pin and pen differently, but if I listen to myself say many, depending on how fast I’m talking and the surrounding sounds it can vary from “minny” to “menny” to “munny” to “m’ny”. The phrase how many comes out like a single word, “howminy”.

The important thing, though, isn’t really how I hear the words. It’s how Willy, the character in the comic, hears the words. I have no idea where he may be from or what sorts of ulterior motives he may be nursing.

Maybe it was a willful misunderstanding! Maybe this was the grand gesture he finally needed to spark a conversation with Desmond! Maybe they’ll both laugh about it on their twentieth wedding anniversary!!

I saw the joke coming a mile off.

Regarding the donut-fetcher’s “That gonna be enough?” reply:
It’s possible that the reply is sarcastic (especially when paired with the HA HA). After Desk-guy doesn’t back down on the request, which Donut-fetcher assumes is a joke of some kind, Donut-fetcher decides to take it to the next level with a wheelbarrow full of donuts.

I especially like how this interpretation of the situation introduces two levels of misunderstanding.

I’m a native Californian and do not have a pin-pen merger , but i do pronounce “many” more or less like “mini.” It certainly does not rhyme with “penny,” the way i say it.

Thanks. Glad to see y’all get it.

Given the clothing, the office equipment, and the wooden wheelbarrow, I find the phrase “mini-donuts” anachronistic.

Welcome to Wondermark!

21 Feb 14:35

Stoke Central is set to rank alongside Darlington in 1983 as one of the great by-elections of modern times

by Mike Smithson

An unlikely LAB hold in Darlington kept an unelectable leader in office

So much has happened in the Stoke central by-election that it it looks set to take its place in by election history alongside what many regard as the most sensational of all, Darlington, in 1983.

That took place exactly a month after the Bermondsey when Simon Hughes had an unlikely and still controversial win against LAB. The political atmosphere at the time, like today, was highly charged as the newly formed SDP was fighting to establish a parliamentary presence. The assumption in Darlington was that this would be an SDP gain but it turned out not to be because of the extraordinary public collapse of the party’s candidate.

He was a local television celebrity who was probed incessantly by the great Newsnight journalist, Vincent Hannah, and it became clear that he knew very little about public issues. Hannah was remorseless.

As it turned out the seat was held by LAB with a 4.6% majority over Michael Fallon for Tories. The winner, Oswald O’Brien, only had 3 months as an MP before Mrs.Thatcher called a General Election in which the Tories took the seat.

Many argue that the by-election had two big political consequences. It impeded the SDP’s momentum at a critical time and also helped reinforce Michael Foot position as Labour leader. There are those who say that if Darlington had been lost then Foot’s position would have been untenable and maybe the red team would have been led by Denis Healey at the 1983 General Election.

So the parallels with the current fight in Stoke central are very strong. We’ve seen the UKIP leader and contender struggle hard against a storm of media stories as well, of course, as the questions about the address he used on his nomination form.

I don’t know who is going to win on Thursday but given the poor publicity I think that Nuttall has a massive challenge. We could get a very tight result with four parties being very close to each other.

Mike Smithson

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21 Feb 13:14

The Radical Argument of the New Oxford Shakespeare

by PG

From The New Yorker:

In 1989, a young professor named Gary Taylor published “Reinventing Shakespeare,” in which he argued that Shakespeare’s unrivalled literary status derives less from the sheer greatness of his plays than from the cultural institutions that have mythologized the Bard, elevating him above equally talented Renaissance playwrights. “Shakespeare was a star, but never the only one in our galaxy,” Taylor wrote. The book was his second major attempt to counter the view of Shakespeare as a singular genius; a few years earlier, he had served as one of two general editors of the Oxford Shakespeare, which credited co-authors for five of Shakespeare’s plays. In “Reinventing Shakespeare,” Taylor wrote that the Oxford Shakespeare “repeatedly shocks its readers, and knows that it will.”

Late last year, Taylor shocked readers once again. The New Oxford Shakespeare, for which Taylor serves as lead general editor, is the first edition of the plays to credit Christopher Marlowe as a co-author of Shakespeare’s “Henry VI,” Parts 1, 2, and 3. It lists co-authors for fourteen other plays as well, ushering a host of playwrights—Thomas Nashe, George Peele, Thomas Heywood, Ben Jonson, George Wilkins, Thomas Middleton, and John Fletcher, along with Marlowe—into the big tent of the complete works. This past fall, headlines around the world trumpeted the Marlowe-Shakespeare connection, and spotlighted the editors’ methodology: computer-aided analysis of linguistic patterns across databases of early modern plays. “Shakespeare has now fully entered the era of Big Data,” Taylor announced in a press release.

It’s no longer controversial to give other authors a share in Shakespeare’s plays—not because he was a front for an aristocrat, as conspiracy theorists since the Victorian era have proposed, but because scholars have come to recognize that writing a play in the sixteenth century was a bit like writing a screenplay today, with many hands revising a company’s product. The New Oxford Shakespeare claims that its algorithms can tease out the work of individual hands—a possibility, although there are reasons to challenge its computational methods. But there is a deeper argument made by the edition that is both less definitive and more interesting. It’s not just that Shakespeare collaborated with other playwrights, and it’s not just that Shakespeare was one of a number of great Renaissance writers whose fame he outstripped in the ensuing centuries. It’s that the canonization of Shakespeare has made his way of telling stories—especially his monarch-centered view of history—seem like the norm to us, when there are other ways of telling stories, and other ways of staging history, that other playwrights did better. If Shakespeare worshippers have told one story in order to discredit his contemporary rivals, the New Oxford is telling a story that aims to give the credit back.

Link to the rest at The New Yorker

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18 Feb 23:21

Conservatives discover "the North is massive"

by Jonathan Calder

     The massive North           


Mark Wallace has written an enlightening article for Conservative Home about the strengths and weaknesses of the party's campaign in the Copeland by-election.

But I was most struck by this passage:
Most recent, viable Tory by-election efforts have been in the South and Midlands, within easy striking distance of most Conservative MPs’ constituencies. Cumbria is rather further away – and, as one MP puts it, some have been surprised to learn that “the North is massive” – which has deterred some from attending.
It reminds us that, while Britain is divided by social class, there is a related geographical division too.

As I once wrote of David Howell and his views on fracking:
One of the problems we face as a country is the way the golden triangle of London, Oxford and Cambridge dominates our national life ... 
Featured on Liberal Democrat VoiceThe result of this is that many otherwise educated people have little knowledge of large tracts of their own country and indeed think themselves rather clever because of it.