Geneva convention

I've been at Geneva convention for the week, where the spray-on snow was being liberally applied to all of the trees in sight. But it was nice, if a little chilly. So nice, in fact, that I even went for a walk along the shore of Lake Geneva, and very lovely it looked too.

The hotel I was staying at -- the couple of hundred quid a night hotel I was staying at -- had good quality wifi throughout, which was excellent. But it cost twenty quid a day. What a joke: twenty quid a day. I really wish hotels would advertise more clearly their absurd wifi charges, charges that have become as ridiculous as phone charges used to be before mobile phones were invented. As far as I'm concerned it's one of the most critical factors in choosing a place to stay. Wifi should be free to all guest, they should just give yo a log-in code with your key when you check in.

It's not even the price that's the most annoying thing, since most of the people who stay in these places aren't paying the bill anyway (as I wasn't). It's combination of the hassle of having to go down to the desk and buy a stupid card with a log-in on it, and the cheek at charging for something that should be included. They don't charge you extra for electricity or water when you leave. Or maybe they did, I should probably check the bill a little more thoroughly.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: moaning, travel

Big Sister

I'm not sure whether it's age or gender-related, and I know I shouldn't, but I still find it odd to have a Home Secretary called Jacqui. I also find it odd that we have a Department for Culture, Media and Sport: that still sounds, to me, like a Bulgarian ministry to be infiltrated in a cold war spy novel, but whatever. Anyway, I don't want to make a party political point (since politics isn't, generally speaking, the point of this blog) but Jacqui -- or Big Sister, as she will undoubtedly be known to posterity -- recently signed into law a new statutory instrument under the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act 2000. Under this instrument, 796 organisations now have the right to look at our telephone records. These include the police, the Department of Health (it's only a matter of time before your calls to Domino's pizza will, along with your smoking habits, become a factor in your waiting list ranking for NHS), the Immigration Service, the Food Standards Agency and 796 organisations now have the right to look at our telephone records. Not just Woking council, of course, but local authorities in general. Honestly. It gets more like North Korea round here every day, except luckily the government don't run Waitrose so the food shortages haven't cut in yet.

I'd lay a pound to a penny that the first time Woking council invoke their new Stalinist powers it will not be to defeat a cunning plot by international terrorists dedicated to our destruction but in a dispute over hedges or car parking.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: moaning, politics

Global warming is nothing compared to the stupidity tsunami on the way

Someone forwarded a story about the lottery to me. The national lottery, that is. Now, I'm rather proud of the fact that I have never, ever played the lottery. I regard it as a cynical government tax on stupidity, as did Adam Smith, and he knew a thing or two about economics. Since the cash bonus that they get is of the order of billions, it means that the government has no incentive to reduce stupidity, which seems something of a moral hazard to me, but what do I know. Anyway, if you don't believe that the people who play the lottery are stupid, read the story. The lottery launched a new winter-themed game on Monday. To qualify for a prize, users had to scratch away a window to reveal a temperature lower than the figure displayed on each card. It being winter, some of the temperatures were below freezing. But the concept of comparing negative numbers proved too difficult for products of the Great British Edukashun system and Camelot received dozens of complaints on the first day from players who could not understand how, for example, -5 is higher than -6. One of them was Tina Farrell, from Levenshulme who said

On one of my cards it said I had to find temperatures lower than -8. The numbers I uncovered were -6 and -7 so I thought I had won, and so did the woman in the shop. But when she scanned the card the machine said I hadn't. I phoned Camelot and they fobbed me off with some story that -6 is higher - not lower - than -8 but I'm not having it.

That's the bulldog spirit! Pig headed ignorance and a joyous disregard for learning, jumbled in the chav culture of rights without responsibilities. Some times I do genuinely begin to despair for our great nation. Whatever government figures about exam results might say, it is indisputable to anyone who has to mix with the general public (eg, not members of the government) that British society is becoming stupider, after several hundred years of getting steadily cleverer.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: moaning

Football dilemmas

My youngest son plays in a football team. (He had a great game in midfield today with some calm and assured passing easing his team to a 5-2 victory.) I took him to training on Saturday as usual but I noticed that a couple of regulars were missing. It turns out that some of the private schools in the area were having some sort of open day and so some of the kids had gone with their parents to view them. I thought no more about it until I overheard our centre-half talking to our left-winger, discussing whether they might go to Charterhouse (£22K per annum) or some other private school. Not the sort of conversation that the young Rio Ferdinand would have had with the young Joe Cole?

Did I forget to mention that my sons football team is based in Woking?

Putting aside my conflicted feelings about private education, I suspect there may be socio-cultural reasons why the Pyrford - West Byfleet - Horsell triangle will be unlikely to give birth to the next Wayne Rooney, but we'll see. What I was wondering though was if my son's footballing development might be disrupted when he discovers that we are the only family in the team without a swimming pool...

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: kids, sport

How the other half lived

What a pleasant couple of days. I've been down at Elvetham, in deepest Hampshire. Now this is living. The grounds are vast and beautiful, the Victorian pile in the middle is massive, you can't see hoi polloi with a telescope. Once upon-a-time it belonged to the Seymour (as in Jane Seymour) family: cool. Since it's been so lovely and sunny and I've been ambling around chatting with people outside, I can confirm that this is a more pleasant place to spend the day than, say, Woking town centre, which is where I am going later on.

Here was the view during my morning stroll. I imagine the peasants are keeping discreetly out of site behind hedges and things.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: travel

Half and half

I had a strange timeshift experience in the West Country. It was like that TV show where that guy got knocked on the head and woke up in the 1970s. I woke up in Cricklade, which is much the same thing. Anyway, I wandered up to the bar to get some drinks in and spotted two amazing things. The first was Babycham. I had no idea that this still existed -- I haven't seen it for years. Growing up on a Swindon council estate, I'd always imagined Babycham to be the height of sophistication, although thinking about it I'm not sure if I can ever remember going out with a girl who drank it. Anyway, as the momentary shock of recognition jolted me, I almost gasped out loud as I glanced to my left and saw Ansell's Mild on tap. When I worked in a British Legion club before I went to University, mild & bitter (half of draught mild mixed with half of whatever is the cheapest draught bitter) was my favourite drink. So that's what I ordered, and you know what, it was really nice. A genuinely Proustian moment. It tasted like 1976 (apparently the best ever year), when I used to drink literally a gallon (i,e eight pints) of the stuff in an evening and didn't get drunk. Last night, though, I only had two pints of it and I fell asleep in the car on the way home.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: nostalgia

Over at the O2

I forgot to mention, I saw the artist currently known as Prince at the O2 Arena. I wouldn't say I am a particular fan of the purple pop pixie, but it was a very enjoyable show, especially as we were in Row F on his side, so we were 10 metres away from him, and some of songs worked great live. You don't have to be a fan to admire the talent and watching him play Purple Rain close up was great. Seeing someone who can play, compose, sing, dance and entertain with genuine charisma made for a terrific night out. During one of the instrumental breaks from the brass section (who I thought were excellent), one of the players said something along the lines of "this isn't a computer, this is real musicians playing real music". Quite.

In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]

Technorati Tags: pop stars