TwistedByKnaves

If you can keep your head

2011-12-29T23:26:00.001Z

when all about you

are losing theirs and blaming it on you ...

In a desperate attempt to get Sprog4 into the habit of writing, I am nagging him mercilessly to post a blog entry, however small, each day. So it's only fair that I should do the same. Sadly, I have got out of the habit of collecting nuggets through the day to tease out into some words of wisdom later in the week. And I never got into the habit of dashing off a Deep Insight in five minutes. So I find myself casting around for inspiration. It occurs to me that "If" covers just about everything a human being can aspire to: I should be able to hang a cogent observation or two off each couplet.

We begin with the memorable lines on grace under pressure. A mother needs to get the children to school on time: one has lost a shoe; one is wearing odd socks and the dog has diarrhea. A middle manager is struggling to pull together a dysfunctional process while his burnt out staff abandon him faster than he can replace them. An accounting manager is looking at implausible results on the last day of the monthly accounting close while the systems are crashing around him and the Board are questioning what is going on.

Of course good planning might have avoided the crisis. Which is one of the reasons why you can legitimately be blamed. But that is not the point. The point is, can you handle it when you have to?

What does it take to keep your head?

In the first place, you have to have a clear head to keep. That is, you need to know what you are trying to achieve and how you are trying to do that even before things go wrong. Like a sailing ship, you can only manoeuvre if you are moving forward. If you are simply reacting to whatever comes along, you will lose control when the pressure mounts.

Linked to this, you need to take responsibility rather than joining the chorus of people simply seeking to avoid the blame. This gives you a mandate and inspires the troops. Though of course, it also opens up the possibility of highly visible failure. Nevertheless, the failure is rarely as visible or as catastrophic as it seems at the time.

Finally, you have to make a decision and follow it through. Making the wrong decision is forgivable (if you don't make a habit of it). Making no decision is not.

So you grab a handful of bananas, dig out the lost shoe from behind the umbrella stand, accept the odd socks and bundle the children into the car while calling the cleaner to tell her to stay out of the kitchen today. And on the way to school, you make it very clear that everyone will be hounded mercilessly out of bed at 6:30 tomorrow.

You explain to your internal customers that the process is broken and they won't be able to get any more fixed assets until it is fixed.

You make your best assessment of the potential errors in the results and that this is acceptable for now. You tell the Board the position and commit to a full analysis in the next two weeks.

And your children weep bitterly, but they know that they are in safe hands.

And your internal customers bitch and moan, but they know they are in safe hands

And the Board is officially unimpressed, though they know unofficially that they are in safe hands.

A propos the cat litter tray

2011-12-03T21:37:00.004Z

My Love, may I express the hope
That we invest in Simple Soap?
Perfume's divine, but masks the fact
You've missed a spot of Derriere de Chat.

This Caught Mum's Bedey Eye

2011-11-05T21:44:00.003Z

I've just spent a week with my ageing mum in Stornoway. The quality of care for the elderly is impressive, and it is clear that the community has a deeply ingrained respect for those of pension age. However I wouldn't say that it goes as far as veneration. Whatever this flyer about help with heating bills for vulnerable groups might suggest.

Remember, Remember

2011-11-05T21:39:00.000Z

Remember, remember
The fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot
I see no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot

What is going on here?

When the nation comes together for its great Winter festival of light in the night, are we really still remembering that our state lives under the Damoclean threat of Roman Catholic insurrection? Or celebrating the horrid just deserts meted out to a ~~freedom fighter~~ black villain? 400 years ago?

Or are we coming together in good fellowship to share hearty food and mulled wine and to gaze upwards in simple shared delight at the balletic confections of fire and motion?

Just asking.

Seeing Wrong

2011-11-05T10:34:00.003Z

I had an interesting conversation with +Xabier Ostale, who was arguing from painful personal experience that all religions are both wrong and evil. Furthermore, that if we do not actively fight them, then we are complicit in their mass crimes against humanity.

My position is markedly different. I see the issue as the ghetto. As soon as we allow ourselves to think of a group as "them" rather than "us", we are at risk. I recommend writing a sentence or two on a particularly gruesome outrage in the first person plural. And then reflecting on how this feels. Why are we shooting rockets at our fellow inhabitants of Israel? How can we tolerate generations of our fellow Israelis living in the squalor of Gaza and the West Bank? How could we bomb a funeral of fellow Irishmen in Omagh? What drove us to blow up a plane-load of innocent civilians over Lockerbie? How could we allow tens of thousands to live and die in misery in the Concentration camps of South Africa in the Boer War? Or millions in the camps of Germany, Poland and the Ukraine later in that woeful, warful century? Or hack our neighbours to death in Rwanda?

Did you try it? How did it feel? Bit of an unreal twinge?

Of course, historically organised religion has often been a major force for setting up ghettos. But this extends to any system of morality and government. (Though some people extend "religion" to include a belief in Democracy, Communism or Capitalism.)

On the other hand, individuals need a strong ethical framework to see when the system is turning toward evil and to resist this. And this framework is transmitted by the very systems which present such a threat. So if you live in Europe or America, even if you are not a practicing Christian, you live in the context of the values transmitted by the Christian Church, and these values equip you to resist its excesses.

Philip Pullman believes that the evils of organised religion outweigh the value of its payload. Rowan Williams, perhaps unsurprisingly, feels otherwise.

Now, here's the mashup.

+Robert Scoble points out that the front line of the tech war for 2011 and the foreseeable future is the battle to capture users' identities so that the internet marketing operations (Google, Salesforce and Facebook - he calls them advertising, but it will be broader than that - this will be about identifying what the market wants as well as facilitating the sale of product) can tailor what each individual sees to what they are most interested in- in the broadest sense. He calls this the Game of all Gameshttp://scobleizer.com/2011/09/11/the-game-of-all-games-content-and-context-why-mark-zuckerberg-marc-benioff-and-larry-page-are-carving-up-the-social-world/ .

So we are all to be lovingly and securely wrapped in an opaque yet invisible bubble woven from our own needs, fears and desires. Let's take care that our new internet overlords are well aware of our need to understand people whose bubbles are very different.

Night Comes On

2011-10-30T21:01:00.001Z

A lovely, lilting waltz that chugs gently towards the terminus bearing its world weary freight, for all his attempts to get off early. I'm listening to this in Stornoway, the day before I head back to the world from a visit to my mum. Whilst it is tempting to make parallels, loose talk of marble and snow would, I hope, be premature.

The Wrong Question

2011-08-14T23:44:00.000+01:00

From what I can make out, everyone is asking "what sort of person would take part in a riot?"

It seems to be a huge surprise to find that some people like to let their hair down and some people like free stuff.

The government line seems to be: watch out for people like this:

A solid scoop of ice cream sits in its scoop awaiting its fate with compliant resignation. But when it melts, it runs riot down your chin and clothes, causing both damage and distress.

Most of the time, most of the people do what they know they ought to.. But occasionally, some flashpoint is reached and the populace switches into a different state, where people do what they like.

How did that switch happen?

In short, you have a ghastly mess

2011-08-12T00:01:00.000+01:00

In the 60s (and the 30s, when PL Travers wrote the book), we were pushing back against the deadening grey tyranny of the staid banker.

If they MUST go on outings, these outings ought to be
Fraught with purpose, yes, and practicality

Quite.

As we sweep away the purposefully shattered glass from the streets of our major cities, it occurs to us that we may have been a little hard on him. (If only he had lived up to his values and not committed the ultimate parental crime of siding with his children, all might have been well.)

As bumbling (yeah, right!), toffee-nosed Mayor of London St Boris Johnson said in the last ten seconds of this radio joust, agreeing with lefty firebrand MP Diane Abbott, it's all about boundaries. If we don't give kids boundaries, they'll find someone who will. Gangs were a large part of the problem.

But possibly not as large a part as the ordinary citizens who, presented with free stuff, gleefully grabbed their opportunity. Carpe Cacem indeed!

Now this is of course reprehensible. They have fallen from the path of righteousness and now must take the consequences. And they are not alone.

George Banks not only released his children into a world without boundaries: he allowed himself to be reduced from a leader of the community to an irrelevance. He ran from the field of battle almost without a fight, leaving it to the wide boys and chancers who looted for years. And, to be fair to them, they didn't understand the boundaries either. Very few people did.

When everyone around you accepts a certain behaviour, it takes a special sort of stubbornness to maintain that it is wrong. So people drive too fast; take days off sick when they are fine; accept mistakes in their change; travel on the train without a ticket; steal beer glasses;... the list is endless.

Oh, and fiddle their expenses.

MatthewConnolly Matthew Connolly

“@BBCNews: 'This is copy-cat behaviour', many involved in #Manchester #riots 'well known to police' Hazel Blears Salford MP She should know!

Which makes it a bit problematic for Parliament to take a high moral tone here.

So has the country gone to the dogs over the past decade or two? And must Something be Done?

No and Yes.

The was a rare disaster, like a tsunami or earthquake. A sudden release of pressures which have built up over decades. We have had riots before and no doubt we will have them again. Tidy up; learn the lessons; move on. Nothing to see here.

There are those who see this as an opportunity to grab a few steps towards an agenda of control. This morning I saw a Blackshirt staring out of the TV screen, telling me that he has my face and he is coming for me. (Fortunately, the innocent have nothing to fear.)

Does the colour of the shirt really matter? Of course it does. What colour is George's shirt? Well then!

Of course people must be punished and made to work on putting things right.

And of course we must make it a real priority to build a new generation of decent parents. Not just in the sink estates, either. We should not forget the parents who abdicate their responsibility to the boarding school, leaving the hapless inadequate child to wreak havoc in the Bullingdon Club. Another data point that complicates our leaders' response.

I'm not sure how the wreckers fit in. Could anyone fall for the wild joy of lashing out or would most people, though tempted by free stuff, stop short of wanton destruction?

You can go elsewhere for your unrestrained mob wickedness

2011-08-09T23:04:00.000+01:00

Swimming against the current tonight, a light meditation on individual goodness and restraint in the villages of the Isle of Lewis. (Another guest post from the Usual Suspect.)

There was a young woman in Tong
Who never did anything wrong
She moved out to Gress
Where she sinned even less
That virtuous lady of Tong

London calling

2011-08-09T08:49:00.002+01:00

From Croydon to Clapham and Ealing
The mob has the Capital reeling
As they let down their hair
Twitter lets us all share
The pain that Mubarak is feeling

Guest post phoned in by mum

2011-08-08T22:56:00.001+01:00

There was an old woman in Stornoway
Whose ancient incisors were wornaway
It took her a while
To recover her smile
'Cos the dental technician had gornaway

(I wish I'd looked after mine)

New Old Music (NOM)

2011-08-07T22:46:00.000+01:00

I missed Thomas Dolby the first time around. But there are many routes to every destination. So, thanks to chirpy San Francisco tech podcast Buzz Out Loud and the addictive noir Bakelite punk puzzle game advertising his latest offering A Map of the Floating City, here is a jaunty ballad from Our Hero, unable to accept that his childhood sweetheart (or is that the EU? Or France?) has moved on.
Europa and the Pirate Twins.

Regrets? I've had a few...

Ladies, ladies

2011-08-07T10:03:00.000+01:00

The excellent Fairy Blogmother gave some simple hints on search engine optimisation recently. So on yesterday's post, I added some keywords and so on. More in hope than expectation, really.

Imagine my surprise and delight to see a comment this morning!

But it isn't just about quantity, sadly.

Whilst I'm sure that Candice is as charming and dynamic as all the other Rumanians I have ever met, something tells me that her blog might have some additional features that the Beloved might not approve of. Or worse.

Oh well: if you will shine a light in the darkness, you must expect to attract a few blood suckers, I suppose.

If I've jumped to the wrong conclusion about you, Candice, then I'm really, really sorry.

Think of the kittens!

2011-08-06T23:56:00.002+01:00

A tweet:

doctorow Cory Doctorow Dear #BBC: Every time a newsreader says "Internet website," the #W3C kills a kitten. PLEASE THINK OF THE KITTENS!

I have a horrible suspicion that this is a serious point, despite the veneer of camouflage whimsy.

What is the complaint here anyway?

Is it the tautology? The "web" in "website" nowadays is shorthand for "world wide web". And that web is only world wide because it uses the internet. Well, yes. I can see the point: it is a sort of laziness that does not belong in the BBC, but I would have thought that any kitten killing would have been done by the shade of Lord Reith rather than the W3C.

Or is he detecting a confusion between, as it were, the wiring and the coding - the body and the soul - of the great enterprise that binds the global village together? That battle was lost as soon as the infant dubdubdub was released to the wild and captured the heart of the world. Even those of us who have struggled (vicariously) through GCSE ICT and understand the technical difference difference also know that in reality, "it's on the internet" and "it's on the web" mean exactly the same thing (even if the simplifications we choose to make in interpreting the words may be subtly different). Furthermore, I would hope that the W3C would take a quiet pride in it's role in building a system so frictionless that users need neither know nor care about the underlying concepts.

I have more sympathy with a concern over attribution. The Internet was the creation of the scary and faceless military-industrial complex (ARPANET, SKYNET, etc). Whereas the www was the creation of a comforting academic with a name, face and everything.

Everything? Not quite. No patent. Foreseeing its impact, he was content to give it to the world. A stunning rebuke to the culture of ownership.

Thanks, Sir Tim.

And Happy 20th Birthday, WWW.

Ring the Bells

2011-05-30T23:25:00.001+01:00

I've come across a couple of references to this

in the past few days.

Oliver Burkeman's "Help!" (a fine antidote to self help books) quotes it in his chapter on the dangers of perfectionism.
And on Start the Week, Andrew Marr; picked up the reference in the title to a philosophy and music festival currently running in Hay-on-Wye.

I was thinking of dropping it into the Facebook group for Abenet and Toby(Sprog2)'s wedding. After all, the rather downbeat opening matches the mood when their beautiful venue burned to the ground. A week before The Day.

And so they had to start again, forgetting that particular perfect offering. Of course, everyone rallied round and the cracks in the Perfect Plan really did let the light in to a perfect, luminous day.

But when you add up the parts of the song, the sum is desperate hope arising from despair. Which is absolutely not the right message here. We come back to an earlier sage, Chesterton: "An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered."

Abi & Toby head off to their adventure

Pipers at the Gates of Dawn

2011-05-22T16:25:00.000+01:00

Poor Twisted has been a little tired and depressed of late. Even the wit and wisdom of the web has not drawn him from his despond. But this, too, has passed. As he emerges from is almost subterranean gloom, what should he see but this?

This opening passage fitted Twisted's mood perfectly. Kenneth Grahame's evocation of the golden England of the Edwardian summer starts innocently enough with this homely anthropomorphism. Soon enough it takes a turn for the dark and then the downright mystical.

I still remember the jolt I got reading it to my children when I got to the title of chapter 7. Not only was Pink Floyd's early album self indulgent and almost unlistenable as they groped towards their later mastery, but they pinched the title (its only redeeming feature). Later released with the equally awful and beautifully named "A Saucerful of Secrets" as "A Nice Pair". Oh, the wit!

But I digress.

The point of this is that Kenneth Grahame was a very senior banker - secretary to the Bank of England. On the same day that Twisted saw Execupundit's piece, the papers were full of another banker: Fred "the Shred" Goodwin. An aggressive corporate raider who built up the Royal Bank of Scotland to a serious global player before It collapsed with the UK's largest ever corporate loss when the credit crisis hit.

One is tempted to compare and contrast the two bankers: one who produced a string of books culminating in one of the greats (though he never went to university) and one (the first of his family to go to university) who sacked thousands before crashing his bank, bringing misery to tens of millions.

But no-one is beyond redemption. Until his disgrace, Sir Fred chaired The Prince's Trust. This fine organisation works with the young who have not found their way: who got little from school, jobless and hopeless. Young volunteers from the police and fire service take small groups through a twelve week crash course to give them the skills and confidence they need to make their own way.

As he chose to help many thousands of new dawns, I am inclined to give Sir Fred the benefit of the doubt.

Take flight, my beauty!

2011-05-19T22:12:00.000+01:00

DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO HIS BOOK

PARAPHRASTIC METRICAL TRANSLATION.

Go forth my book into the open day;

Happy, if made so by its garish eye.

O'er earth's wide surface take thy vagrant way,

To imitate thy master's genius try.

The Graces three, the Muses nine salute,

Should those who love them try to con thy lore.

The country, city seek, grand thrones to boot,

With gentle courtesy humbly bow before.

Should nobles gallant, soldiers frank and brave

Seek thy acquaintance, hail their first advance:

From twitch of care thy pleasant vein may save,

May laughter cause or wisdom give perchance.

Neatly put, Robert!

(Ooh, I do like a nice paraphrastic metrical translation: it's the best sort, don't you think?)

I fought the wife and…

2011-04-28T22:20:00.002+01:00

Poor Twisted has been promoted to Horny Handed Son of Toil. His holiday last week coincided miraculously with a week of glorious weather. After a fallow year, the ancestral allotment was waiting for a keen volunteer to unleash its inner Eden. Time to break some sods in the hot sun.

And time for a semi relevant musical interlude.

I get assigned the digging, clearing and moving heavy weights: simple, healthful and manly work. But not intellectually stimulating. So I plug in my podcasts. And now the bean patch carries memories of a discussion of Medieval Universities with Melvyn Bragg (the BBC's weekly history and science magazine, In Our Time). All washed down with liberal light, fizzy draughts of CNET's Buzz Out Loud.

But the real discovery was in the rhubarb and strawberry patch, which will forever taste of Laurie Taylor's Thinking Aloud. A new addition to the podlist - why was I not told that so much Good Stuff would be broadcast under the banner of Sociology? So the rhubarb is delicately flavoured with an analysis of the uprising in Egypt (I hadn't realised the role played by Wael Ghonim), while the redcurrant netting carries a comparative study of successful and unsuccessful attempts by mafias to occupy new territories and the patch by the compost bin has a study of Facebook compared to village life in Trinidad.

Where "friend" has long been a verb. Though it carries a rather earthier and more authentic meaning than the anaemic imposture currently infecting the dubdubdub.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/ta

Grrrr

2011-04-26T21:22:00.000+01:00

I have now had two attempts at building a blog post using Inglorious Apps' very pretty Notes App for webOS. Both drafts are nowhere to be found.

Now I see where I went wrong. There is no autosave until you back swipe. It's the little things...

The Enemy

2011-03-09T20:46:00.005Z

Today I began putting together some thoughts on The Problem with Communication in my workplace. Looking for a quote to grab the interest of my lucky audience, I Googled a dimly remembered "we have seen the enemy and he is us".

And discovered Pogo. While I head off to Wikipedia to try and catch up with American culture (I seem to be at least sixty years behind: Why Was I Not Told?), I'll leave this amuse bouche for anyone who shares my ignorance:

"There is no need to sally forth, for it remains true that those things which make us human are, curiously enough, always close at hand. Resolve then, that on this very ground, with small flags waving and tinny blast on tiny trumpets, we shall meet the enemy, and not only may he be ours, he may be us.

Forward!"

That's fighting talk. (Just love those tiny trumpets.)

I am grateful to Marilyn White for her wonderful site, "I Go Pogo",where Google sent me for the quote. And, of course, to the witty, wise and courageous Walt Kelly, the Creator.

DON'T help!

2011-03-02T19:57:00.000Z

Here's a nice thought from Michael Neill.

If you saw a young bird pushed from the nest, you might instinctively reach out and catch it while it's still falling. And you might think you've saved it from almost certain death.

Whereas in fact you'd be saving it from almost certain life.

He isn't quite so plonkingly neat about it.

Song of Love and Hate

2011-03-01T07:21:00.000Z

I can't help wondering whether DBYW223 (which, as the judge said, I strongly suspect to be an assumed name) really understood Leonard Cohen's exquisite warts and all love song to the USA when he posted these clips.

In the first, delirious and fizzy rapture you may be blind to any faults in the Desired Object. But as true love grows, you recognise the less attractive parts of the Beloved. And this doesn't matter, because what you really love is the soul that lies within.

So yes, America may have a journey still to travel, but surely its history is much more than the series of war crimes suggested by the work of the very angry young man (some guesses here) who tacked the video together. Here is something a little more considered.

So much depends on context. It’s OK to be aware of the flaws in your own country, and right to be angry about them: this is certainly better and safer than the mindless jingoism that takes over the tabloids at times of stress. But knocking another country that you don’t know or love is generally foolish, reducing any conversation to an exhilarating trade in insults.

Even this can be quite fun.

It’s hard to know what to say about this, though. I used to think that the tragedy of “Democracy” was that only an American could sing it properly. Once again, the Quo have confirmed my prejudices. Having grown old disgracefully into everlasting dad rockers, they have lost none of the chutzpah that endeared them to the nation. I am appalled. Though you have to admire their cheerful cheek.

Mastery

2011-02-27T09:50:00.001Z

A week ago I called out Penelope Trunk as an example of the poetic non-fiction that David Shields is calling for. (Yes, OK: I finished a sentence with a preposition. Sue me. This is the sort of language up with which we will not put, as Churchill said.)

Right on cue, she has come out with another fine essay, this time on mastery. Her position is that she won't get into anything that she can't dedicate herself to, in order to achieve mastery. The examples she gives are heroic: she wouldn't take up dancing until she could pay for three lessons a day, with three different teachers, for example.

For these examples, or serious competitive sport, this is the level of commitment required, over an extended period, for real proficiency. A master tradesman would originally have had seven years' apprenticeship before he produced his masterpiece and was judged worthy of admission to the guild. This was not exceptional: it was the usual career.

La Trunk's point is, I think, that mastery is becoming a less common experience. Literature has long enabled us to slip into the imagined life of a master, and this has only increased with film and, in particular, video games. Why learn to draw when you can point your camera? Why learn to photograph when you can grab an image and tart it up in Photoshop? Why learn Photoshop when you can grab an image, ready made, off the dubdubdub?

There is a powerful meme as old as literature. The humble student is like a caterpillar, slaving away at apparently meaningless tasks under an inscrutable master. He finally emerges from the pupa into a bright new world of mastery. This is fine for an hour or two in Karate Kid, but doesn't seem to be able to compete with the short cut offered by Call of Duty.

So we have lost our respect for craftsmanship, for what it takes to master a trade. We genuinely believe that if we take a little longer and follow a manual, we can do anything ourselves. Master tradesmen make a good living fixing the mistakes of those of us who thought we could Do It Ourselves. And every bank holiday, the Accident and Emergency Departments fill up with those of us who underestimated what it takes to master the building and decorating trades.

And yet...

There are two routes still open.

One is to find somthing you love doing. I'm afraid, Penelope, that this means trying things out. And then when you find that something, just keep on doing it. Ideally in the teeth of mild opposition.

For example, all my children have had music lessons for a few years. Like reading and writing, making music is a basic ability that you need to work on before you know whether you'll like it. One made it all the way through her grades before leaving school, and could have taken it further, but had no time for it in a very full life. No problem: it's still there for her to pick up again if she wants to. One got to the stage where he can be heard picking at his guitar for his own pleasure when he isn't doing schoolwork or socialising. One dropped it as soon as he could. And one lives for heavy metal, gigging around the local towns as often as is legal at his age. We try to obstruct his more outrageous demands for band practices and have starved him of kit, but he thrives on any problems we throw at him. Drums. What were we thinking?

The point is that you have to love everything about your new craft. In particular, you have to love the training itself, however apparently boring and physically painful. You need to be addicted to the gratification of the next small improvement, day after day and week after week. Your craft has to graduate from something you do to something you are. (This is not without risk.)

The other is to find the mastery of small things. This is just as real. So for an hour or two you can lose yourself as a Master Polisher of Shoes.

Kurt has mastered shoe polishing, ironing shirts, yard work, blogging and much more. What about you?

Trickipedia

2011-02-20T10:10:00.000Z

I like to save general discussion programmes as podcasts to beguile some tedious task later in the week. Yes, I know I should delight in every moment of every task I am granted by a generous providence. But hoovering? Really?

So the excellent (if mildly ignorant in the ways of the web) Andrew Marr’s flagship Monday morning salon “Start the Week” is often picked up a little later. Last Monday’s edition had a fine attack by David Shields on the literary novel. His contention, starting at 10:58 is that notions of coherent plot, setting and character no longer reflect modern life. He argues for a poeticised non fiction. Quoting from Dr Johnson,“A book should either allow us to escape existence or teach us how to endure existence.”, he feels that most literary novels do the first but not the second. He points to a handful of current writers “not writing novelly novels”.

He seeks to free non-fiction from the shackles of citations of source and proofs of truth, delivering an exciting dubiety where the reader cannot be sure what is stolen from whom, and what is original. “The best books make how the writer solved the problem of being alive the very centre of the work.”

The key word here is “books”. Andrew Marr is renowned for a careless remark that exposed his disdain for the blogosphere.

My first response was to think of writing a database of partially (in both senses of the word) mediated factoids. This could be one person’s life work or a social enterprise. A Trickipedia.

But isn’t this exactly what the blogosphere is?

The best bloggers construct collages around their chosen themes. Some, like Cultural Offering, are solidly reliable. They make their impact with the breadth and eclecticism of topic and the quality of writing. Others, like Penelope Trunk, offer a deliriously one sided view of their struggles with life. Whilst most link furiously, the reader is always aware that the Internet is a very unreliable witness.

The challenge is to sort out the illuminating few from the preachy many. The easiest approach is to pick out recommendations from the blogrolls of blogs you already like. I’m always open to suggestions. You can find some of my suggestions on the Andrew Marr link above. All of these give insights into some aspects of modern life.

What about yours? Where do you go for excitement and “how to endure existence”?

Seconds too late for the Pacific...

2010-11-01T08:01:00.000Z

Execupundit points us to Warren Zevon's riotous party piece, "Werewolves of London", and to the trailer for Tim Burton's marvellous "Legend of Sleepy Hollow".

Shake them together vigorously and you get the Legend of Sleepy Hollow for the Global Village, "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner". Tragically relevant after 35 years.

Andrew's Owed

2010-10-26T23:56:00.000+01:00

A bard, however hard he tries

Grows flabby without exercise

But flabbier by far the hacks

Who spout before they've checked the facts

Because you've hurt my feelings I'll

Regurgitate a little bile

I do not like you, Mr Marr

With your amusing little car

And jaunty step on Sunday morning

To work: to give a good stiff fawning

To some slimy politician

Or celebrity beautician

They flock to you from Near and Far

I do not like you Mr Marr

I'm sorry, but your face is not

A pretty thing, you jug-eared Scot

Watery of eye and weak of chin

Thin hair scraped over pasty skin

Hunched forward with a whining leer

You simper in some starlet's ear

The girls like their reporters hot

I'm sorry, but your face is not

You preen before your flock to see

This weekend's mediocracy

And pimp their policy or book

Then let them wriggle off the hook

Or slither off to Hay on Wye*

And sneer at all the the hoi polloi**

Who dare to publish what they think

In plebian dubdubdub, not ink

And what's a "Cauliflower Nose"?

We've never heard of one of those

I take an interest because

I rather like my chiselled schnozz

It's clear that, after many years

Of taunts, you wouldn't mention ears

You seemed so nice, but all the while

Your soul was steeped in raging bile

And these crass comments that you rue

Are simply piping up "me too!"

It's only human, joining teams

Around some new (or ancient) memes

Like laying down your daily siller

For Daily Mail or Daily Mirror
Or writing - give the world a laugh -
A letter to the Telegraph

And did you read, before debunk

ing ruthlessly, young Penny Trunk?

CO and Michael Wade soar free

Or bask in Eclecticity

So back to blighty's rain-swept shores

To Nicholas Bate and Charlie Stross***

My cozy corner of a world

That's multiplied a million fold

You jeer at pimpled youth with scurf

Have you not heard? The silver surf

You jeer at journals published new

We cannot all be Montesquieu

A cruel hist'ry will judge whether

Books self-published in limp leather

Bindings were a worse offence

Than blogging one's experience

No, what gets up your rosy neb

Is journalism on the web

For now the demos, in full cry

Tears down the lazy alibi:

"No matter what you said or heard

The facts are these, the printed word"

Yes, what you hate, you jaded hack

Is, now your victims answer back.

*All right then, Cheltenham if you must
Some other Festival of Dust

** The Guardian made me opine

The Telegraph, for once, is fine

***If you've just time for one I'd rate

Bright shards of wisdom: Nicholas Bate

Here comes the judge

2010-10-15T08:48:00.000+01:00

The Angel of Final Judgement

Execupundit reminds us that "nonjudgementalism" can be a lily-livered excuse to evade our responsibility to think.

The same is true of judgementalism.

Unlike judgement, which is a characteristic virtue, both "isms" are frames governing how we behave when we don't have enough information.

But how much information do we really need? That's a matter of judgement.

Let them eat poo

2010-10-13T06:42:00.001+01:00

What's going on here?

His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales (HRH) has said something sensible, interesting and important. A large number of intelligent, good-hearted people have commented. (I got this from the amazing Eclecticity, who was sharp enough to spot that this was probably not a full or balanced report, but couldn't resist the joke headlines.) Two questions occur:

Why were 98% of these comments so crass? (I'm not sure I've ever used that word in my life. Is it right? crass Yep.)
What lessons can we draw for our own life and work?

Why would sensible people make stupid comments?
Not knowing the individuals, I can only guess:

There is a ready-made story that superficially fits.

The story of the ruler who is out of touch with reality is as old as Cnut (the 10th century anagram who ruled an empire including Denmark and England but was unable to command the tide to stay out). HRH is a natural fit here. Like a US Supreme Court judge, he is accountable to no-one and nothing except his family and conscience. He has always spoken the truth as he sees it, knowing full well that the press will mock him. In an age of spin and sound-bite, he is a magnificent anachronism. (This does not make him irrelevant. The Prince's Trust is a practical counterblast to populist demands for zero tolerance.)

I am looking in the wrong place

There is something about the Internet which draws a disproportionate number of stupid people.

I don't believe this. The same people often demonstrate great wisdom in some posts and apparent ignorance in others.

I am looking in the wrong place

The comments on a popular blog are not supposed to be about scholarly analysis. They are a place to show your allegiance to the tribe. Clear, hard hitting professions of faith are the order of the day. And trolling raids on rival tribes, of course.

I am wrong

Clearly ridiculous.

Lack of respect

Respect is neither admiration, which must be earned, nor deference, which is out of fashion. It is simply thinking of another human being as a person like you (or like the person you aspire to be). Not a thing. Not a threat. Not a victim. Not a problem.

Here, people are not treating HRH with respect. That is fair enough: he's a public figure. But it does mean that they don't even attempt to work out what he was saying. Worse, though, they aren't treating the slum dwellers with respect. So they are not open to the possibility that they might be leading meaningful lives and have wisdom we could use. This is plain stupid.

Fluffy? Not at all. Using ourselves as models may be misleading, but usually it gives us the best chance of understanding. Without respect we can only build grotesque caricatures. And before you know it, there are heads on spikes.

Humour

This story came from the Telegraph, a British paper. HRH's views are well known and widely pilloried, but it is possible that a humorous headline could have drawn attention to a serious article. Humour does not always travel well.

What can we learn?

Decide: tribal or thoughtful.

If tribal, disengage your nagging internal critic and get swept away on a wave of joyful glee or righteous fury. Let your love, or hate, flow like a mountain stream. THEN edit. If you must.

If you plan to lead a tribe, of course, you need to be both passionate AND thoughtful. Tricky. Which is why we can't all lead.

If thoughtful, I try to answer the question: "what would persuade me to say that?". This at least assumes some doubt and gives the other person its benefit.

It doesn't always work, though: I'm only human. Which is rather the point.

Any other ideas?

Key questions of Natural Philosophy

2010-09-27T22:09:00.000+01:00

"Hello Mr Magpie, how's the wife?" Does this reset the magpie accumulator? Must my fear of sorrow kill any hope of joy, a girl, a boy, silver, gold or a secret?

Sprog5 thinks it does. He still believes that the world is both understandable and fair. Touching, really.

But perhaps he's right.

A Middle East question

2010-09-27T10:16:00.001+01:00

Read on...

I have been asked at short notice to say a few words to our Middle East team about the system changes we have in store for them. Note to self:

When asked to address the front line, the corporate staffer should always remember the Two Great Lies:

Hello, I'm from Head Office: I'm here to help. And
Pleased to meet you.

However, we soldier on...

What do you want to achieve?
Your host wants his people to get:

a morale building feeling that things really are getting better
a lively and entertaining 30 minutes to keep up the energy and momentum of a day of training and updates

You want to:

support your host
raise your profile in this region
get people interested in the social networking arena
give people information they might actually find useful in their day to day work

What can you say?
You can think of the planned changes under three headings:

Things we are doing to you
Things we are doing for you and
Things you can do for yourselves.

Things we are doing to you
We inherited a mess and it needs to be cleaned up. Things will get worse before they get better. The systems you are comfortable with are not competitive. One day, you'll look back and thank us. But the next six months will be a nightmare.

All the honest staffer can do is give an honest appraisal of the need and a best estimate of the impact on the front line. And press gang the people he needs.

Get through this openly,honestly and quickly. They will remember you were straight with them.

Things we are doing for you
This is better. The pain you went through last year is paying off. The requests you have been putting in for three years are finally getting priority. The latest reorganisation gives you direct say on the Executive Committee.

Share the good news,but remember that the audience will be sceptical. Don't over sell. Remember what you have told them and check that it actually happens. If it doesn't, be the one to break the news.

Things you can do for yourselves
This is where you find the magic. Make sure you have time to show them the stuff they can do now to ...

In the good old days this meant:

Use simple Access tables instead of Excel Frankensheets (which are impossible to document and ALWAYS contain errors).
If you must use spreadsheets, don't use macros. With clear spreadsheets you will get reputation for clear thought.
Share your key reports. Build a library with your peers around the world. Build a reputation.
Use sharepoint for more than just file storage.
Never mail a file: it wastes storage and people lose track of versions. Send a link to the version tracked master.

Much of this still applies. But the new frontier is the social network. Be sure to share the sort of problems this can solve:

Want tips and tricks to use our tools better? Go to Lori's blog.
Want to share your own knowledge and insights? Write your own blog.
Worried you might waste time on the Social Net? Track where you are spending your time with ManicTime.
Do your virtual worldwide teams seem impersonal? Chat asynchronously with our microblogging tool.

Some thoughts on presentation
Also remember that

RT @edyong209 via @MuckRack Every time someone puts up a slide with bullet points and no visual info, a kitten jumps onto a spike.

Use big pictures and handouts.(where can I get a picture of a kitten falling on a spike? That would be a strong attention grabber: "let's begin with the wisdom of the social network...")

Use the virtual room tools for three of four surveys during the call to take the temperature of the audience? Take written questions. Check whether they are all sitting in one conference room or apart.

Have fun!

Communique

2010-09-24T20:27:00.000+01:00

Saying nothing at all, despite excellent advice from Chris Brogan.

A lesson from history

2010-09-12T23:41:00.001+01:00

Some memories are so painful that they overwhelm rational thought. Some symbols are so powerful that the slightest glimpse overrides all logic. So when Newt Gingrich likened the threat from Muslim extremist terrorism to the threat from Nazi Germany, all we saw was "Muslims = Nazis". He knows people and he knows symbols: he must have known this.

Take a deep breath, hold your nose and think for a moment about the Nazis. How did people like us find themselves murdering millions of their fellow men?

One answer is that the premise is false: they weren't like us, they were clearly monsters. After all, they murdered millions and we don't: QED. This seems too easy to me: both unlikely and unhelpful.

But if they were like us, what went wrong? We need to know, if we are to be sure that we won't wake up one morning and realise that we are guarding another death camp. (It is too much to hope, after Yugoslavia and Rwanda, that this won't happen again to someone else.)

There were a number of issues: a powerful grievance; a truly desperate economic situation; a charismatic saviour figure; an effective organisation. But there was one overriding factor that made everything else possible. Something that has been with us since before we came down from the trees. Christ aimed his most devastating parable at it.

It is this: our ability to conveniently forget that people outside our group are truly human.

This is what we need to watch for. All the time. So when Gingrich calls "Nazi" on Muslims, meaning that they are monsters rather than people, he is making the same mistake that the Germans did in the 1930s. And if I call him and his followers evil, then so am I.

So what am I to call them? It seems to me that the best and safest assumptions to make about other people are:

they are intelligent
they are moral. I would recognise their overall principles as good, though I may have different priorities
if their actions appear malign, there is something I don't understand

And my response must be based on principles:

even actions which are moral in "their" frame of reference can damage me,
ends and means cannot be separated: if I wrong people, even in self defence, this will make the core problem worse
Sometimes we have to take our lumps.

Had this on my mind

2010-09-12T23:33:00.000+01:00

Not sure why: maybe I'm getting maudlin in my senescence.

A grudge worth bearing?

2010-09-11T23:31:00.000+01:00

I had no friends or relatives in the World Trade Centre, the Pentagon or flights 11, 77, 93 or 175. But I have been affected.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee...

Which is John Donne's way of saying that the disaster nine years ago was not an attack on America or even on the West. It was an attack on mankind.

Cultural Offering makes and defends the simple and powerful statement that this is a grudge worth holding.

Rudyard Kipling takes a dim view of grudges: "being hated, not give way to hating" is his advice to his son. This is not just virtuous and Christian: it is intensely practical. Enmity and fear are like entropy: they grow naturally. The longer we allow ourselves to hate our neighbour, the dearer the final reckoning.

So somewhere we must find the strength to take our lumps and carry on building a better world as best we can.

While we celebrate the lives of the victims and grieve that they were cut short.

Oh dear...

2010-09-02T22:04:00.000+01:00

Emily amused by one of those trendy American productivity gurus

Beloved Emily reminds me that I only have the pleasure of her company until Sunday, when she heads back off to start teacher training. So it's OK for me to neglect my blog and show her the proof of Heron's Theorem. This is a very fine piece of Hairy Algebra which delivers the Happy Ending just at the very last minute. It's like a Rubik's Cube or a P G Wodehouse story: where you are hopelessly lost in an impenetrable plot problem until you turn the last couple of pages / make the final couple of twists and suddenly all is well.

Sometimes life's like that.

I don't remember seeing this at school: I got the proof from khanacademy. And I don't remember hearing about khanacademy itself before seeing a tweet from Steve Clayton (wonderful stuff, but not much of a disguise) a few days ago. The entire US Maths school syllabus (and much more) delivered in ten minute YouTube videos. All done by one man with the aid of an electronic blackboard. How does he maintain his work rate?

I only need one excuse a day, of course, to maintain my current level of production indefinitely.

The Old Masters: how well they understood

2010-09-01T22:12:00.000+01:00

The Old Sailor
by A.A. Milne

There was once an old sailor my grandfather knew
Who had so many things which he wanted to do
That, whenever he thought it was time to begin,
He couldn't because of the state he was in.

He was shipwrecked, and lived on a island for weeks,
And he wanted a hat, and he wanted some breeks;
And he wanted some nets, or a line and some hooks
For the turtles and things which you read of in books.

And, thinking of this, he remembered a thing
Which he wanted (for water) and that was a spring;
And he thought that to talk to he'd look for, and keep
(If he found it) a goat, or some chickens and sheep.

Then, because of the weather, he wanted a hut
With a door (to come in by) which opened and shut
(With a jerk, which was useful if snakes were about),
And a very strong lock to keep savages out.

He began on the fish-hooks, and when he'd begun
He decided he couldn't because of the sun.
So he knew what he ought to begin with, and that
Was to find, or to make, a large sun-stopping hat.

He was making the hat with some leaves from a tree,
When he thought, "I'm as hot as a body can be,
And I've nothing to take for my terrible thirst;
So I'll look for a spring, and I'll look for it first."
Then he thought as he started, "Oh, dear and oh, dear!
I'll be lonely tomorrow with nobody here!"
So he made in his note-book a couple of notes:
"I must first find some chickens" and "No, I mean goats."

He had just seen a goat (which he knew by the shape)
When he thought, "But I must have boat for escape.
But a boat means a sail, which means needles and thread;
So I'd better sit down and make needles instead."

He began on a needle, but thought as he worked,
That, if this was an island where savages lurked,
Sitting safe in his hut he'd have nothing to fear,
Whereas now they might suddenly breathe in his ear!

So he thought of his hut ... and he thought of his boat,
And his hat and his breeks, and his chickens and goat,
And the hooks (for his food) and the spring (for his thirst) ...
But he never could think which he ought to do first.

And so in the end he did nothing at all,
But basked on the shingle wrapped up in a shawl.
And I think it was dreadful the way he behaved -
He did nothing but basking until he was saved!

Well, it worked for him. But who will save ME?

And now for something completely different...

2010-07-27T22:46:00.000+01:00

Productivity junkies might like to take a look at Erik Lorraine's stylish Sources. Erik has devised a rather beautiful personal Kanban system.

He shows it off, with some genuine insights, in a site which is gloriously free of concessions to his users. His technical choices seem designed to frighten off the unwary, unworthy passer by. He revels in the process of accessing his site before giving away what you might find there.

Wonderful, wonderful stuff for the true seeker after enlightenment.

And a lesson in valuing differences.

Falling off

2010-07-27T22:19:00.000+01:00

Having written nothing here for two months, it is not surprising that the level of interest has fallen off. I am amazed to find that the usual suspects (I suspect) are still popping in from time to time on the off-chance that I may have roused from my torpor and made some witty and insightful contribution. As time has gone on, that has become less and less likely for two reasons:

I'm embarrassed. "Come in and get your beating, sonny. But first, let's hear your sad excuse for being an hour late for school." "(sniffle) I don't have one, sir. Even though I've been sitting here trying and trying to think of one for fifty-five minutes."
As I stop thinking of myself as a blogger, I stop noticing things to discuss. I become less interesting and life becomes duller.

Time to get back on.

As key exams approach

2010-06-02T09:09:00.000+01:00

He tells me he is studying diligently. His room, he avers, is an oasis of academic contemplation.

Hmmm.

Enthusiasm is a horrid thing, sir

2010-06-01T22:49:00.000+01:00

Dear David,

Thank you so much for the exercise ball you gave me for Christmas. I use it every day, and I find it makes a big difference. As you may find this a bit hard to believe when we meet at Toby and Abi's big do next month, here's a picture of our lounge on a typical day, with the exercise ball ready for action.

Looking forward to seeing you again after too long,

Your loving brother,

Will

Design

2010-05-29T23:18:00.000+01:00

I have finally taken CO's hint and got into blip.fm. As usual, I begin with a burst of wild and unsustainable enthusiasm which will no doubt tone down in the next few days. Anyhow, blip gives you a tweet for pithy and amusing comment. How can I describe Leonard Cohen's "Closing Time"? I was thinking along the lines of, "A marvellously crafted and sustained metaphor from the iPhone of chansonniers".

I'm not sure I'll go with that: fans of the iPhone would get it immediately, but others would need the explanation. And there is prejudice.

Before I go on, I should say that I have the enthusiasm (shudder) of a recent convert. My first Apple device was a basic iPod Touch that I got for Chrismas 2009. I had been using PDAs and smartphones running decreasingly crippled Windows since the Compaq Aero. Anyway, I have found religion. I am, it is alleged, a Jobs Fan Boi. This is not good. You Have Been Warned.

So, anyway, here's the explanation:

The iPhone is a marker for Design.

This is a slippery concept to define, though I think most of us know it when we see it. A team that has mastered Design:

understands the essence of the product and
ruthlessly eliminates anything which does not fit that essence, however useful or profitable it may appear

Cohen is a chansonnier in the classic tradition. His songs are melodic, intelligent and passionate, and delivered with more passion than musical purity. He has a weakness for the rambling dirge, but this one is particularly neat. He establishes his metaphor, links it to his underlying truth and, in a couple of tight verses, delivers his insights. Then he closes off perfectly.

Clearly, he has spent some time honing away lyrics which almost but didn't quite fit. Time well spent.

Having got that off my chest, here is a gobbet of heresy.

Design is not necessarily Good

It's a Trade-off. If you choose Design, you are sacrificing all of the things you could have been adding when you were ruthlessly eliminating. (As Blaise Pascal wrote in 1657, "I only made this longer because I don't have the time to make it shorter".) And you may need other compromises: restricting the number of simultaneous programs to ensure adequate performance, for example. Some would prefer to be able to run lots of programs, even if their device does occasionally grind to a halt.

Others want to know that their device will work consistently when they need it. Something my first "smart" phone conspicuously failed to do.

While you hone your perfect product, you can lose momentum.

It's the difference between

functionality vs function
what you do vs how you do it
what you can do vs what you are
Google vs Apple

Choices, choices.

What did you do today, dear?

2010-04-24T23:38:00.002+01:00

Errm...

Has the day blended into an unwholesome mush? What actually DID I spend my time on today? Well, since you ask:

3h4m7s (30.2%) How to approach archiving of dead
   systems,
   including
   ways of collaborating
   remotely on an affinity diagram.

1h40m37s (16.5%) Preparing, calling and documenting a
call my mentor. Nice feedback from
someone I rate highly.

1h40m32s (16.5%) An unexpected call from a colleague
asking for advice on how to get people
working on his project

1h17m9s (12.6%) Mail. (150 mails. Including responding
to mails, which probably took a good
30 minutes)

40m35s (6.7%) Setting up my Vodafone account on
   their site and topping up sprog 5's
   phone. The wrong phone, as it
   transpired. Painful, two calls to
   support teams. Who were
   excellent.

31m40s (5.1%) Call our IT architect and document the
application strategy in a key country.
A specific goal for the year!!

22m57s (3.7%) Work on the costings for a key
   proposal for next year. This was
   supposed to be the main focus of my
   day. But data was not forthcoming. Ho
   hum.

16m50s (2.7%) Browsing. Pretty disciplined! (Excludes
   the 1h45m49s I footled away on
   Twitter and Blip last night. Dear God!
   Emily was, as ever, quite right)

13m35s (2.2%) Setting up and learning ManicTime. A
sound investment, as it transpired.

13m1s (2.1%) Fluid input/output breaks

So, overall, not a bad day at work, with a good mix of completions (application strategy), investment (the archiving and research into collaboration) and support for the team. A purist might say that I should have taken more breaks. Sorry, Nicholas: mea culpa. Sorry again. On the other hand, a change is as good as a rest and tinkering with collaboration tools is as close to playtime as it gets, so not an exhausting day. Shockingly off plan, though. But look what the Group Norm had to say about the power of not forcing things. (Stick with it). He may be right.

The beloved had an evening off: I got home to posh fischcakes and noodles which I took in front of last week's first episode of The Prisoner (remake). Which was as good as expected (note to self: set the recorder tonight). And fits the times. Then out with the dog for half an hour for exercise and inspiration. Came back buzzing with ideas for blog. But a little tired, so tuned in to blip.fm and a friendly forum. 2 hours later I'm exhausted and haven't done anything worthwhile. ManicTime has the evidence (see above). Never Again!!

Though one of my blips had it right, if only I'd been listening to my screaming subconscious.

Have I mentioned ManicTime? Oh yes, I see I have. repeatedly. I came across it on Mark Forster's blog as a comment from Romano to a post about Qlockwork (another excellent, but expensive, activity tracker). Who'd have thought a timesheet could be such a sensual delight? Or that a simple snap to feature could be exploited so cleanly and with such subtlety? I find myself wanting to stroke it, the same way I like to fondle my Moleskine and my iPod touch in it's black rubber gear. Possibly a touch TMI here? A good thing this is my private journal.

Good Luck, Penelope

2010-04-18T00:01:00.000+01:00

Penelope Trunk, ace bloggerette, ties the knot today after what feels like a lifetime of ups and downs with her Farmer. Along with about half a million other people, I wish them both a lifetime of growth and happiness.

La Trunk is an enchanting writer, and has become a part of my routine like my favourite slippers (before the dog ate them) or evenings at the fencing club (before kids revision schedules got in the way). I seem to be running short of cozy routines. Happily, her blog is still there (twice this week). So I do feel a tiny thrill of linkage to this event, thousands of miles away among people I will never meet. Especially as she arranged it for my birthday.

I may not be the first to notice that you can slip into someone's head with different levels of subtlety.

1. Use my name for a straightforward, open approach

If you use my name in conversation or writing, you switch me into "greeting" mode. It's like knocking on the front door: I'll come to meet you courteously, ready to think about what you are offering me. Usually, this is what you want.

2. Grab my attention with a special date

Then there is the special date. For most of us, the most special date is our birthday. Seeing this date triggers unreliable memories of gifts, meals, parties, excitement, happiness and love.At least, it does for me. Even if the actual events may sometimes have been objectively disappointing, I remember them as they should have been. This hoard of memory sits surprisingly deep. It's as though the inner lizard is actually a sleeping dragon and this is his treasure. He is very attached to his hoard, and any reminder will wake him up and get him interested.

In other words, it's a shortcut to my happy place.

3. Do something clever with my name

On a memorable visit to the Indigo specialist printing company in Israel, I got back to my hotel room after the first day to find a calendar pushed under the door. On each page was a landscape photo with my name spelled out in some way. (The first was an Alpine scene where the skiers spelt "WILL". And so on.) This slipped straight through the open back door into the kitchen and poured itself a cup of coffee, as it were. Apart from being amazed at the technology (there were eighty people on the visit, and we each got our own personalised calendar), and though my thinking mind knew that this was no more than a mailmerge, I did feel rather special.

They had taken the step beyond routine good manners. Like the person you meet at a party who looks into your eyes and repeats your name. Hint: as people expect less courtesy, the bar is getting lower. These habits are easy to practice and are available to all.

4. Blow me away with a wordless image

Finally, you can surprise me with an image. Done well, this is very, very powerful. Possibly slight overkill to encourage people to pay their TV licences, but this (*) is exactly the response I expect when news of my blog leaks out beyond the discerning few. (Stick with it.)

(*) I am grateful to Jon Moon for this link. I've mentioned him once before. He won't help you organise your life. He won't inspire you to brilliance. He won't lead you safely through the maze of social media marketing. He will simply show you how to design your documents for clarity and impact. You can find him here, with lots of fun stuff. He sent his fans this DIY Hero link.

He has done a lovely version of the Downfall subtitles, "Hitler Hates the Sales Presentation". What is it about these particular four minutes that make it such a great spotlight for all the stupidities of modern life?

(Today ~~is shaping~~ shaped up rather well, since you ask, with blogging first thing, a beautiful bright morning which ~~will probably draw~~ drew me out of my pit before I finished and good wishes from family and friends.Then rather a good adaptation of Robert Harris's The Ghost, birthday tea and a couple of games of Carcassonne with sprog 5 - honours even. Rounded off with a little quiet blogging and pigging out on Whittards plain chocolate orange strips.)

Written in haste, written in awe

2010-04-01T09:39:00.000+01:00

of Philip Pullman, on censorship and free speech. This just shows the power of an intelligent and articulate writer stating his credo. It's good enough to eat. In fact, good enough to requote here. Pullman was taken to task for the offensive title of a recent work. This is his reply:

"It was a shocking thing to say and I knew it was a shocking thing to say. But no one has the right to live without being shocked. No one has the right to spend their life without being offended. Nobody has to read this book. Nobody has to pick it up. Nobody has to open it. And if you open it and read it, you don't have to like it. And if you read it and you dislike it, you don't have to remain silent about it. You can write to me, you can complain about it, you can write to the publisher, you can write to the papers, you can write your own book. You can do all those things, but there your rights stop. No one has the right to stop me writing this book. No one has the right to stop it being published, or bought, or sold or read. That's all I have to say on that subject."

At which point, all right thinking webizens are on their feet, clapping and cheering.

Such precisely controlled and focused passion in an off the cuff comment: marvellous. And, most importantly of all, stopping as exactly the right place. An example to us all: every paragraph should carry exactly one payload.

Sorry, notional readers: I have some way to go, I fear.

But ...

You don't have to read a book for it to challenge your belief: just knowing it exists is enough. (In fact authors frequently whine that their critics should have read their work before complaining.) And you cannot protect yourself from finding out that it exists. From that point on, Pullman is simultaneously and falsely humble and arrogant.

On the one hand, he is offering the remedy of an argument. Well thanks, but no thanks. Defending myself against someone of his calibre is not really a starter. This is like a tenth dan Wing Chun master saying, "I have the right to try and mug you and you have the right to defend yourself". His answer proves it. When challenged by an ordinary mortal, he nukes them with his credo and moves on.

The implication is that you don't suffer real damage if your beliefs are weakened: that your credo is worth less than your credit card. But many inarticulate people rely on a simple faith to guide them through life. Chip away at that and they lose direction and momentum. This is real harm: to the good they can do in the world and to the living they can make for their families.

On the other hand, he assumes a God given (oops, possibly not!) right to tell us what to believe.

This is beginning to sound like an argument for censorship. It isn't.

Free speech and open argument do real damage, but in the end they are the safest way. People like Pullman are our best hope. What they write is important, can do good and can hurt people. So they need to take responsibility. "Well, no-one needs to read me so I can write whatever I please" is an arrogant cop-out.

Time's up

2010-03-19T09:37:00.003Z

As promised, I have a reply for Michael Wade after a couple of weeks' consideration. Unfortunately, it's too long to post as a comment (blogger tells me the limit is 4k characters). So I'm posting here. It expands a little on the raw list I posted at the time.

Michael,

Thank you for your simple and thought provoking suggestion. As I indicated in my initial response, it has always been quite possible to have a boilerplate reply that (re)sets expectations about the timing of your considered answer.

However, once you have set those expectations, it is vital that you meet them. In that spirit, here are a few thoughts on the tyranny of the instant response culture.

What's the problem here?

It has always been possible to read and respond instantly. In the old days, with two posts a day, it was possible to send a letter, get a response and send your agreement in the same day. The gurus advise us to work our mail in batch, once or twice a day. So what's changed?

Well, of course many of us don't take the gurus too seriously. We keep the incoming mail warning set. So when we are struggling with a piece of serious work and in danger of achieving something, we are offered the relief of a stream of new things to distract us. After all, a change is as good as a rest.

And then we can respond, filling mailboxes around the world with a stream of witty banter. Our mailboxes rapidly fill up with soft focus gossip. Mail has more of the characteristics of a phone call. It is common to see a "conversation" (bit of a Freudian slip there, Bill) with twenty or thirty responses, in the course of a day. (Which could have been managed in ten minutes with a phone call and a single mail to confirm understanding). There is the additional feature that it gets forwarded. So you don't know who you are talking to.

Introducing your inner lizard

Seth Godin has recently introduced into his blog the theme of The Lizard. This is more than a metaphor. The R-complex is the primitive area of the brain which is the first (historically and biologically) to develop. It sits between the body and the thinking brain and acts as gatekeeper between thought and action. It is very, very stupid. In my simple model (actually, I got this from Mark Forster. This is the subject of the first chapter of his book on task management, Do It Tomorrow. This chapter is freely available.), the lizard brain is binary. To any stimulus, it's response is either
- "Nice: I'll 'ave that!!" GRAB or
- "Oo-er: scary!!" FLEE/HIDE

Both are well illustrated in Butoy and Gabriel's seminal work on reptile behaviour.

Your lizard loves email and the internet

The point here is that a new mail offers our inner lizards respite from toil and the possibility of something new and fun. So OF COURSE it will want to investigate. The dubdubdub (which I understand to be street argot for the "www" or "worldwide web". See how this poor backward Englishman is trying to accommodate any trendy, groovy and with-it Colonials who might chance to read this) is an infinite pinball machine for our lizards to scamper around in, bouncing happily from bumper to bumper.

On the face of it, this appears to bode ill for intelligent discourse. But we should admit the possibility that this sort of reactive behaviour is a flocking strategy for a whole generation. This leads to a sort of hive mind that can do some things efficiently and intelligently.

OK. Possibility admitted. That way leads to fashion (please read "fashion" in a tone of dretful scorn) and heads on spikes. Bah!

This too shall pass

Back to mail for a moment. Gartner predicted a couple of years ago that business would move to instant messaging as its main form of communication. I am seeing that now. It is hard for people to complain about your lack of responsivenes to a mail if you are chatting to them and a couple of other teams in a chat room. This frees up mail to record the outcomes or to request responses which CAN wait. As we begin to get used to this, I do believe that the mail madness will pass.

Though we still need to work out how we will deal with the constant chatter.

If you have any further concerns or questions on this matter, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Yours sincerely,

Will

Deadlier than the mail?

2010-03-06T06:53:00.001Z

Ace blogger Michael Wade at Execupundit riffs on the tyranny of email here. So naturally, I am considering my response at the usual leisurely pace. A few thoughts to start me off:

email is more like a phone call than a letter
an instant response need not be considered
you will stand out if you do not respond instantly
your inner lizard loves to respond instantly
with the internet society, your inner lizard is having a really good time at the moment
a lot of lizards reacting to one another form a flock
when the lizards are the ones that sit between our brain and the rest of our nervous system, we call it a mob
there are good aspects to the mob
but sooner or later, we always get back to heads on spikes

An open and shut case

2010-03-02T10:36:00.000Z

"And"? Where are you when we need you, Werner?

Instant Class

2010-03-01T21:48:00.001Z

This is not a clever comparison of e-mail with first class post, but a riff kicking off gently from our national, baked in obsession: class. And classiness. Deep down, we (the middle classes) all want 25% more than we've got.

Why not slap a little instant class to your business card (1) or mail signature with a Latin(ish) motto?

Display a modest whimsy with the proud motto of the Edinburgh University Fencing Club (c1973): Plus fortuna quam judicio!

Bored with the wholesome but over used Carpe diem? Try Carpe cakem! on for size. (Thanks, Toby!)

Or the cheerful defiance of one who has come to terms with his fate: Semper in excreta sumus, solum profundum variat. Infinitely preferable to the po-faced, but genuine: Sumus semper in excretum sed alta variat.

But wait a minute: isn't that last one exactly what the struggling blogger is striving for? Maybe in a couple of years...

(1) I know that clip is a bit over used, but I still just love it. This is more useful, but if you've got the wrong sort of mind (my sort) it'll lure you off the path of virtue for rather longer than you might have planned.

Nyaaaaah!

2010-03-01T08:50:00.008Z

Why I love Twitter:
"mkernohan

every time i see sarah palin speak i despise her more and more for her ignorant, half-formed ultra-reactionary received wisdoms"

Let's start with a statement of the blindingly obvious: this is not an analysis of Sarah Palin, her works, plans or values. Marcus doesn't seem to be trying to convince anyone. He is simply stating his values here: his opinion.

Why do we do this?

1. We nail our colours to the mast as a rallying point for the right-minded to gather at

2. We reaffirm and reinforce the core beliefs of the right-minded

1. the values that bind us together

2. our view of how the world works

3. our interpretation of the data and

4. our assessment of what is important and

5. our assessment of what is true

3. We reaffirm and reinforce our own identities

Powerful reasons.

But, deep down, we know the catch, don't we? As we reinforce the beliefs of the right minded and bind them to our own identities, we devalue the beliefs of the wrong headed. (The Astute Reader will have noticed that I am using "right minded" and "wrong headed" rather loosely. "In-group" and "out-group" would be more clinically accurate.) We blind ourselves to the data that doesn't fit our story.

And the wrong-headed quickly become the enemy.

We find ourselves in a feedback loop. Having an external threat helps to rally people around the core, sacrificing self interest and inconvenient details of governance. So it is clearly good for the leaders to encourage this feeling of threat. From the outside, it appeared that Osama bin Laden and Donald Rumsfeld were mutually benefiting from their exchanges of threats. It's a win-win for the power-hungry on each side.

Less so for the bombers and the bombed, of course.

On a less exalted scale, a team that fails to engage fully with the world outside may never know that it has fallen by the wayside until it is too late. This often shows up as a focus on internal politics rather than real external competition and customers. The Department in John le Carre's The Looking Glass War is a fine example. The British motor industry in the 1970s is another.

The real competition is NOT the same as the wrong headed. The wrong headed could be any group that has a different view from the right minded. Remember, these groups form to reinforce the values of their members. The values of the workers and the management in a single firm may be much further apart than the values of the management of that firm and its most bitter competitor.

The same principle holds true for any external challenge. We tend to confuse the statements of belief with fact. We all know that Gordon Brown ran up record debt in the good times and was unable to respond when the crisis hit. We know this because we read it in the press and because we want someone to blame for the economic crisis. It fits and supports a powerful and satisfying narrative. It doesn't matter how many times government ministers bleat the actual statistics (that the government had paid back 1/6 of the debt they inherited before they started intervention in the economy in late 2007 / early 2008): they don't fit the story, so they don't get heard.

But what if we want to fix the external problem rather than our own reputations and personal insecurities? Then we need to build mutual understanding. This is usually difficult, for a number of reasons:

we see our position as right and theirs as wrong
we are blind to gaps in our data
we focus on blaming them for their errors rather than on understanding the different contributions made by each of the players. (Hint: it's hard to change your own behaviour, but much harder to changes someone else's. )

Anyone who has read the work of the Harvard Negotiation Project will recognise this language. Their book, "Difficult Conversations" (Stone, Patton, Heeler) lays out a very clear map of the problems common to all really difficult conversations (good title, eh?). And, of course, suggests proven strategies to overcome the problems. And explains why these strategies are hard to implement and gives solid, practical guidance. THe editorial review from The Author gives a good idea of the substance of the book, if you are seriously considering not buying it.

Start by levelling the playing field in your own head. If you don't have a spare lifetime to experience the world as "they" see it, try stating your viewpoint in tabloid headlines. Stand back, compare and contrast. You will automatically start arguing "yes, but..." to explain that real life is richer and more complex than the headline implies. Try and apply the same arguments to their headline.

Then you can start a real discussion to understand the whole problem. If you're really lucky, you might even start to solve it. Together.

Childish things

2010-02-10T22:55:00.000Z

See-saw,
Marjorie Daw
Johnnie shall have a new master
He shall have but a penny a day
Because he can't work any faster

Coming out of the shower the other day, brooding on this gloomy rhyme, I realised that I have never known who Ms Daw was, or how to spell her name. Is it actually a door of some sort, or just a nonsense filler?

We take on trust that the universe makes some sort of sense. That the things we don't understand still have a meaning, should we choose to dig it out. We learn at a very young age that there is much we don't know. We accept that it will support and nurture us.

But growing up is realising that the universe was not built around us; we need to do more than simply lap it up. We must work to secure what we need. If that comes to more than 1d/d, we will need to work faster.

The world is no longer a Paradise created for us. But we do have the power (and the duty) to build towards our own kingdom of God.

Here. Now.

Things to do in the car

2010-02-08T22:51:00.001Z

A propos of nothing in particular...

Stopped

Tie shoelaces
Tie tie
Muse

Parked

Talk on the phone

Driving

Drive

Too Gruesome?

2010-02-08T22:45:00.002Z

This is remarkable. Thanks to William Gibson for retweeting.

It earns the Ring of Truth award (which is not just for writing).

It takes about a minute and a half. See what you think. I've put down a few thoughts on the previous post.

Embrace Life

2010-02-08T22:42:00.000Z

SPOILER!! If you haven't seen the Embrace Life clip on my next post,, watch it now.

The clip with everything

They threw it all in: Everyman; the sudden, sickening violence of a road traffic accident; despair; motherhood; daughterhood; the protecting strength of love; a happy ending and loads of sparkly pot pourri. I didn't see the apple pie, but I'm sure I could smell it in the stove, lovingly timed for Our Hero's triumphant return.

Not quite what I was expecting

I don't know about other countries, but anyone familiar with the UK's hard hitting road safety campaigns will have had certain expectations. These tend to focus on the cheerful, careless, everyday routine of travel and then the sudden, sickening, life changing (if you're lucky) impact. Lingering in gruesome detail on the ruinous result.

I saw the classic setup and confidently expected that in very short order the beautiful family would be heading, in gloriously lush, detailed slo-mo, through the windscreen.

But no! In a truly magical moment, the moving child morphs from helpless victim to powerful protectrix. Just when he has lost all hope, she and her mother wrap a web of safety around Our Despondent Hero. The family is saved.

And what a wonderful tag-line.

Will I feel my beloved and best beloved's embrace when I next "clunk-click"/"buckle up"?

Making a negative into a positive

As any good salesman knows, you can turn almost any negative into a positive. All the same, finding the good side of a road accident must have been something of a stretch.

The usual message is "you could die: take this seriously". Of course, we all know that. So they took it as read and turned it on its head, to "you could live: take this seriously".

Satisfyingly clever. Actually, this seems to me to be the best metric of cleverness: how huge a negative can I turn into a positive?

I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I suspect that, deep down, we all are. Though it'll take AGES to pick up all the sparkly pot-pourri.

Of course, it's not just seat belts

A car crash isn't the only sudden impact that we will have to face. At work we may face task explosions, promotions, demotions, political thunderstorms, failure of a key project or loss of key people. Our finances may fall apart, or our health, or our homes, or our families.

The carmakers thoughtfully provide us with seatbelts. For everything else, we can look to scripture and saga for guidance. The message from our forefathers is clear: we must weave our own support networks. We must pay attention to them, strengthening them from day to day.

I have neglected mine.

I feel a resolution coming on.

Thanks, David

2010-01-18T23:00:00.000Z

There are those who believe that David Allen's evangelism for the labelling machine is misplaced: absurd even. They are wrong.

My boys can frolic with their chums, picking up any horrible diseases of the chin they may choose. I will be perfectly safe!

Do it now, or...

2010-01-15T23:36:00.001Z

I just laid out the key points of a post. The subject is important. I grubbed up a good picture and some relevant, amusing and wise links. With a little work on the wording, it could be a nice, solid piece of work.

The idea had come to me as I tramped the snowy fields of Berkshire with my dog at lunchtime. I've let my subconscious noodle away at the key themes, and I think it's done a good job. It feels smug and self satisfied.

Unfortunately, I have clean forgotten what gave me the idea. And suddenly I feel very uncomfortable with the idea of blogging it. Why? It's still the bones of a good post - might even be useful to someone one day. BUT it doesn't seem to belong here. It needs some link to my life to come alive itself.

Or it could simply be insurance against banality. ("What, you had the same thought yourself? Seth Godin said it better? How nice! I'm just jotting down some bits of my little life - move along: there's nothing happening here.")

Perhaps it'll come back to me, or I'll conquer my scruples. Meanwhile, the draft is there. Waiting. Patiently.

My subconscious is very cross with me. And rightly so.

Must Try Harder

2010-01-10T22:55:00.002Z

A kind great uncle recently took the trouble to find me and pass on some family papers. These included pictures of two grandparents I never knew: my paternal grandfather, who died when I was two, and my grandmother, his wife, who died when my father was eight.

There were also two letters.

One from my grandfather in 1939, just after his wife had died. The words of a strong, honest man coming to terms with his pain and groping for the strength to go out and minister to his parishioners. Which he did for the next twenty years.

One from my parents at Christmas 1986. This was a routine, chatty update including the throwaway line: "William only had a couple of days off over Christmas, this year, so so he didn't come up from Reading and we weren't enlivened by the patter of grandchildren's feet."

That was the year my first marriage broke up. Does it show that I wasn't trying hard enough at home and taking refuge in work? Or that I was lost and dazed? Bit of both.

How can I compare the tragedy of a marriage torn apart by a horrible lung disease and my own grubby misery? Although cursed by events, Harold was blessed with a clear mission and the resolve to see it through. He conquered his grief and carried on with a life of meaning.

I drifted.

Compare the steely focus in the first picture above with the vacant gaze from the scruffy stripling below.

I feel (a) resolution coming on.

The Dog Ate My Home

2010-01-05T08:53:00.000Z

You really don't want your Irish Wolfhound puppy to get bored.

Or he'll help with the mail

And sculpt the walls

The defendent showed no remorse:

Lumberjack essentials...

2010-01-05T08:13:00.000Z

Letters

2009-12-31T08:10:00.000Z

A fine reminder from cultural offering.
Have the children thanked Aunt Maud for her generosity? As a further incentive to drop by the CO, I've commented with a link that could save your sanity.

A seasonal message from Aunt Jane

2009-12-21T16:11:00.001Z

A guest post from my dear sister. Whose house acquired an Aga in 1938 (and Jane some years later). We are not in the least little bit jealous.

Dear All

Happy Christmas! How are you all? How can I help you feel better?

The problem with Yuletide letters is they’re all about us. How can we make it more you-focused? Tell us, for example, how much you enjoyed Prague at Easter, all done up in flowers and ribbons, and selling bangle-shaped doughnuts (you know, that’s such a good look for you…). Did you catch a glimpse of Mr Obama, or just the enthusiastic cavalcades zooming about?

How did you manage with your rather quiet summer of short visits and day trips? Did you prefer kite-flying or roller-skating? Why have you decided not to go skiing next February? How many of your young companions can’t be trusted not to get lost in the snowy wastes, after that fiasco at the firework display?

Is your vintage Aga working? How do you find the gentle warmth and slightly annoying way it never can get up to stir-frying heat? Do you like slow roasted stuff? How much laundry can you cram into your new kitchen to make use of the energy? What sophisms do you use to convince yourself the carbon foodprint – genuine slip there – isn’t really so bad as long as you don’t use any other heat source in the kitchen? Does growing your own leeks count, or did all your veg suffer so much in the drought that it was hardly worthwhile? Yes, drought. Where were you in August? And how much effort did you have to put in to rescue any kind of tomato crop from the blight? Did you have any apples to speak of? Could it be because you had to destroy the bees’ nest in your bedroom chimney last year, so only had moths this year? Are you a little tired of insect infestations, and do you worry that the house has a grudge?

And here’s one: how many of your young relatives got a distinction at Grade 7 flute, and how did it make you feel? How did their siblings cope with their merit at Grade 2 clarinet? Was it a blood-bath or merely a stand-off? Well done.

And another: how many of the 10 courses of the ‘menu decouverte’ at Top Chef Raymond Blanc’s flagship Manoir des Quat’ Saisons could you manage, and how many of them contained duck and marmalade? How many times now have you asked for a Martini and then cracked when they asked you what kind, so you ended up with champagne after all? Were you sure you didn’t have to drive anywhere when you finally got round to experimenting with recipes? Can you remember what you decided?

Are your ears any better, now that you’ve decided homeopathy can’t be any less effective than conventional medicine? I do hope so. How distressed are you that swine flu is still a threat after all these months, when the kids could so easily have brought it home from school and Got It Over With? Are you otherwise in reasonable health, all things considered? If not, I hope it won’t last long. Er.

How long do you think it will take you to finish the en-suite bathroom? Have you found appropriate tiles and someone who will finalise the plumbing? What colour will your cohabitee choose, and how will you persuade them that your idea was better?

Which of your senior relations has recently moved back to their own house after a prolonged stint in residential care? Is it an improvement? What will you worry about now?

Do please write back with your contributions, and in the meantime, what kind of Christmas are you having? Hope it’s lovely,

Jane

Her Majesty's Neb

2009-12-14T09:47:00.002Z

Some of you may be lucky enough to find a Jimi wallet in your sock a week on Friday. Some of you may be discerning enough to have one already.

Those of you from the fog-shrouded North-East Atlantic Islands may be concerned that recent events (,dear boy,) have pounded the pound. How can you maintain liquidity in the face of up to 33% devaluation?

Do not despair: follow Her Majesty's Nose to store four notes where our American friends can store but three.

Plumbing the depths of Design

2009-12-10T08:34:00.001Z

When working from home, I take the dog and half an hour for a walk at lunchtime. A couple of days ago, we saw a heron, lazily flapping through the sky en route to snack on someone's Koi pond. One of the many benefits of a short daily walking holiday is the opportunity to unhook your brain for a few minutes and let it make random connections. Dog, heron, carp, document design: what could be more natural?

If you

produce documents of any sort
are not a trained designer and
have not yet seen Jon Moon's work,

then you would profit from his book or the templates freely available on his site. He recommends and illustrates four simple principles: Contrast, Repetition, Alignment and Proximity. Which suggests an obvious fishy acronym. Being British, Jon naturally went for the toilet alternative. That's just the way we are wired.

Or plumbed.

Why write this blog?

2009-12-08T22:41:00.004Z

Too much time on my hands? Er, no! (And it's getting worse: nearly two weeks already since my last effort shuffled out of the draft pile and emerged, blinking, into the light of day.)

Can the poor suffering world struggle by without my Message? Quite possibly.

Am I looking for an argument? Well, no again: (I already have a wife).

I thought I'd start this blog with a long and insightful post into what I am hoping to gain and what you, Dear Imaginary Reader, might like to share. But events have supervened.

And I find to my horror that the Blasted Trunk has got there first. Again.

A blog is a great way to figure out what you want to do with yourself because writing regularly is a path to self-discovery. And a blog is a great way to build a network of people who respect you for your ideas, so it is the perfect tool for helping you to attain your goals and dreams, when you know what they are. And, this pretty much covers everyone, right? The super-focused and the super-lost: You should all be blogging.

I am at the less focussed (Editor Alice assures me that either spelling is correct) end of the spectrum. A focus will no doubt emerge from the mists.

BUT

The real goal is something to which La Trunk alludes only indirectly. In every one of the blogs I follow, the writing has got sharper and clearer from month to month and year to year. I am hoping that, plugging away in notional public, I will develop the writing muscles. I am looking for that clarity of thought and word that rings out like a bell. A bell whose master bellmaker has shaved off exactly the right amount of bronze from exactly the right places so it rings loud, pure and true. That is the only measure of writing that has ever worked for me.

It is still and will probably always be slow and painful, with many reworks and corrections. Effortless superiority is probably beyond me. I saw one of Our Hero's manuscripts once, almost illegible as every word had been scored out and rewritten at least once. Plain superiority will have to suffice. If it was good enough for him, it's good enough for me.

And here's a secret: the tinkering is actually quite fun!

A Merciful Providence has ordained that the really bad stuff is at the bottom, where (I thought) no-one will ever see it. (That plan didn't quite work, but no doubt the scars will fade in time.)

Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T09:19:00.003Z

As the United States of America drops into their great celebration of hope in adversity, it is a fine time for us all to count our blessings.

A totally unexpected joy for me was a brace of kind references from Nicholas Bate and Cultural Offering. Thank you both.

A Winter Warmer

2009-11-26T08:20:00.004Z

Now that I am established as a world renowned whisky expert, it is time to share my deep knowledge on other Scottish delicacies. Winter draws on (oops, hope I didn't offend anyone there?). What do we all need more than a warming dish of porridge to keep us going through the day?

I was brought up on porridge, but memories of soaking the oatmeal overnight, or even gently simmering rolled oats in milk in the morning, just didn't fit my rather undisciplined lifestyle. If only I'd known that Technology provided the answer 30 years ago.

So without further ado:

Three Minute Fire and Forget Porridge

Ingredients

1 ladle rolled oats
2 ladles milk
1 pinch salt

Method

put in microwavable bowl
mix
microwave for about 3 minutes depending on size of ladle, power of microwave and, bizarrely, shape of bowl - may take two or three tries before you get it to your taste
stir
leave about 30 s
add milk; extras to taste

extras could include

golden syrup
maple syrup
honey
raspberries
whisky (in moderation)

go nuts!
oh yes:

nuts

Things to do while your porridge cooks

Some of these can be done together. Some can't. Start the day as you will go on, setting and satisfying priorities!

Feed pets
Outline blog post
Rouse children
Let chickens out
Stroke one cat properly
Stroke four cats just enough to reassure them
Snog wife
Shave
Make bed
Brush a loveliness or two of ladybirds into a bug jar for wife to show to her kindergarten class
Read through your task list and set your subconscious to work out today's achievements

P.S. Yes, I know some people spell it "porage". My friend Po had a habit of writing long, angry emails on a broad range of injustices. I did find a helping of steaming Po rage quite invigorating of a morning.

Happy memories

2009-11-24T07:22:00.001Z

The rides are great.
The pirate water fight is super-great.
Sorry about your copy of "Everything is Illuminated", Emily. It, too, remembers.

Rise And Fall

2009-11-23T10:48:00.001Z

Any fan of Colin McEvedy's great historical atlases (I mean YOU, DavRoss) should enjoy this.

A friendly introduction

2009-11-21T22:55:00.000Z

Like many Britons (and all right thinking, properly educated, English speaking people), I am inordinately fond of the works of Rudyard Kipling. Especially "If", his inspirational exhortation to his doomed son.

This is something of a guilty pleasure for my generation. We were required to see him as an apologist for a frankly racialist mindset which underpinned the British Empire. He was the quintessential type of the hidebound establishment that we were supposed to be rebelling against. Here is a nice picture of Malcolm McDowell and friend picking off leaders of that establishment in the closing moments of the 1968 film of the same name.

Yet the poem holds up today. Written in a clean, natural rhythm, it simply lists the defining virtues for us all to aspire to. And they could have come straight off the blog of a life coach last night: grace under pressure; confidence; empathy; modesty; risk taking; accountability; persistence...

So all this sage advice was available a hundred years ago. (Each generation has to find out for itself, of course. Especially now, when the nuclear family restricts access to wise old uncles and aunts.) The message for today is clear: the Edwardians strove to meet the same ideals that we do. They may have fallen short in different ways, but the foundations for success have not moved an inch. Don't bother with blogs until you have digested the books.

So you chunter comfortably through the poem, checking off the virtues as so many slices of motherhood and apple pie. Then you double take as you realise what you've just read. Could he really have meant that?

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you
If all men count with you, but none too much

There's food for thought.

Nowadays we are to believe that, as far as relationships go, the deeper the better. We are to let down our defences, so our friends can hurt us. We are to welcome the inevitable pain as part of Life's Rich Tapestry.

I wonder.

Now, as then, one size does not fit all.

Who says it's all work and no play?

2009-11-21T00:13:00.000Z

Dell? Pah!

Samsung? Piffle!

Legal? EAT THEIR LUNCH!

"It’s competition time!

From now until December 31, each EC member has been issued a challenge to see who can generate the most traffic and sales to our Friends & Family online store this holiday season.

It’s easy to participate -- spread the word to your friends, family, and business colleagues by posting a link to Cathie’s store www.hpdirect.com/deals/friendsandfamily/cathielesjak on your personal networks (email, blog, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, WaterCooler, personal website, etc.) to realize exclusive savings on the hottest HP consumer products this holiday season.

What’s in it for Finance employees? The satisfaction of knowing that you have personally contributed to HP’s holiday revenue growth AND a chance to win a prize from our consumer portfolio. If Finance wins, Cathie will draw an employee’s name to win the prize!

You can follow the progress of the competition on the @hp employee portal throughout December. Please direct any questions about HP’s Friends and Family Challenge to hp.friendsandfamily@hp.com.

Happy Holidays!"

The folded A4 list

2009-11-20T07:30:00.002Z

I have wasted invested a lot of time following various time management gurus. There are two reasons for this deeply dysfunctional behaviour.

They and their followers are generally nice people with interesting things to say on a wide range of list related subjects and
The whole idea of wasting time on efficiency just fills me with silent laughter that sustains me when the real world gets unfunny.

There are two tactical reasons for keeping a list of things to do:

When you are interrupted with a new task (a thought of your own or someone else asking for your help), you can write it on the list instead of breaking off whatever you are doing and
You always have something to do

People write their lists on computers, notebooks, loose leaf pads and all sorts of things. But...there are few things less helpful than a list that is somewhere you aren't. If I'm walking the dog or gardening or shopping and suddenly have a thought, I will forget it before I get to my computer or my A4 notebook in my study.

But a sheet of A4 paper folded three times to A7 will fit in any pocket and hold any thoughts, distractions and tasks until I get back to base.

Latex gloves

2009-11-20T06:39:00.002Z

After you reach the age of six, smearing poo all over yourself becomes less of a sensual delight and more of a health hazard. In fact, our brains eventually develop a deep rooted loathing of even comparatively harmless dirt and grime.

But dirt, grime and dog poo (and, when our gods and plumbers abandon us, even our own poo) all need to be dealt with. This is a major cause not only of physical illness but also of intolerable mental stress.

If only there was some way of stopping the grime actually touching you while you dispose of it humanely.

But there is!

Secret weapons - mini bolt cutters

2009-11-19T07:30:00.009Z

It has been estimated that there are 42,192 different tools which could conceivably be used in a domestic setting. So those setting out on Life's Great Adventure have some decisions to make. Unless they are blessed with unusually deep pockets, storage space and time to learn.

I started off with drill, hammer, screwdriver and Mole wrench. You can do most jobs, after a fashion, with these. But I have spent many painful tortured hours bodging jobs which could have been done quickly, painlessly and well with a few proper tools. If only I'd read this blog then.

The tough, independent inhabitants of New Zealand have a saying that any problem can be fixed with a bit of number 8 wire. (Hat tip to the splendid bignosedugly guy and his brave, inspiring account of his emigration.) My personal preference is 2mm (number 12) or a wire coathanger (a ubiquitous public nuisance in my youth, now sadly vanishing). Great for going places that a strategic finger can't go, as well as fencing and general bodging. And then there's chicken wire.

Now, you can use bypass cutters on pliers or general purpose fencing tools (right. Oops: wrong fencing!). And I did, for many years. But it is awkward wrestling the tool into position and if you need to make a number of cuts (for chicken wire, for example) it is a slow, painful crawl.

Or you can acquire a pair of mini bolt cutters. Every snip is a tactile delight: a slight squish as the wire is squeezed and then a click as it gives way. And every snip is a tiny remembrance of just how painful this job was and how easy it is now.

So try it with pliers first: then you'll know what you're missing.

Sage advice

2009-11-15T09:22:00.001Z

What does "success" mean, and how can you grab it? Nicholas Bate runs a tapas bar of tasty gobbets of wisdom. Sharp, witty and inspiring. Try the "how to think like..." series.
Looking for insights into career and real life? Penelope Trunk seemed to have the lifestyle from Hell until the Farmer came along. Wise, brave, incisive and beautifully written. Warning: too much information for some.
Quick, practical advice on getting more done? Mark Forster distils a lifetime's experience into practical methods you can pick up and use right now. Instant, life changing payback. And his user forum is the friendliest on the web.
Fancy a geeky scrap? Charlie Stross is up for it! Cheerfully offensive and very British. Intelligent and attracts a wide range of science fiction fans. Caution: read his rules before joining the fray.

All dressed up

2009-11-15T08:53:00.003Z

Oh dear.

It's taking a little while to craft the first few posts. There are a couple coming along. They'll be here next weekend (21 November).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have chickens to feed.

Sorry.