CYBERBULLIES Wednesday, May 30 2007

Bullying of teachers on the internet and mobile phone is rocketing. So says the teacher’s union NASUWT. Comments are becoming more prolific and vicious, leaving many teachers in fear.
The problem is, of course, wider than this. New information technology is allowing a whole new area of crime – and I don’t just mean identity fraud, hacking, etc. Crimes are now being committed specifically to be recorded and put online.
This is, infact, an inevitability of human nature. A crime is made much more likely if a degree of ‘impersonality’ can be achieved. Filming something, or posting vicious comment, is impersonal in terms of actual human contact, and therefore more likely to happen.
But much more important is our need for creativity and expression. Every lout and bully can now have access to information technology that used to be only available to the film maker or writer.
As such, everyone can become director of their own art form. Of course, we may not accept the result as art, but art is a personal interpretation. To the lout and bully, art is quite possibly what it is.
I think it is inevitable that this problem will increase. Expression, you see, is what mankind is all about. Sadly, this can provide the best, but also the worse, of what it is to be human.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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WHO’S THE DADDY Monday, May 28 2007

TV supernannies and other parenting experts are undermining parenting. So says sociologist Professor Frank Furedi of Kent University. And I can only agree. As a parent I have brought up children in my own way, which is quite often different from others.
Child rearing is not an exact science. There are as many ways to bring them up as there are experts to tell you how to. The only difference is that parents are on the front line, whereas experts spout off their diatribe and politics from their ivory towers.
The result is that, first, constant interference undermines the confidence of the young parent, and second, conflicting ideas degrade the effectiveness of their parenting skills. But the problem goes much deeper than simply interfering parenting experts.
From increased regulation of child care centres to behavioural teaching in schools, the State is moving inexorably towards the centre of family life. In Britain, New Labour and liberal do-gooders want nothing more than to colonise the family and make it their own.
The result is that the family, as a separate unit from the State, is under threat. Control and condition is the order of the political day. Like a machine the State is now determined to regulate everything, turning out young adults who will be compliant to the system, and consumer fodder for the globalised world they support.
I can only say I am glad I am not a parent of young children today.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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BRIGHT IDEA Monday, May 28 2007

A group of MEPs have come up with a simple idea to turn off 25 medium-sized power stations in Europe by introducing a wholesale ban, throughout the EU, on inefficient lightbulbs.
A total of 400 MEPs are needed to introduce the ban, and Greenpeace are urging the public to lobby your MEP as soon as possible, as the deadline for the idea is 10 June. Some countries, including Australia, are moving in this direction.
The beauty of the idea is that, as well as taking a little of your time for the change, it forces industry to act in a truly eco-friendly way. This is the way environmentalism should be going, putting the onus on industry more than the individual.
A further benefit of the idea is that it is about conserving energy rather than producing more, and I’m sure there are many other ideas that could be put forward in order assist our fight against climate change.
This has never been more important, for the UK government has already used global warming as an excuse to try to re-introduce nuclear energy. It is up to environmentalists, now, to show that the energy gap can be met without this solution.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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RUMPELSTILTSKIN – An Adaptation Friday, May 25 2007

There once was a poor speculator who, no matter how hard he tried, just could not pull off enough deals to make himself rich. However, he did have a beautiful daughter who was so clever that he told his multi-national boss that she could literally spin gold. For a long time the Boss thought this was mere spin, but after a while he decided to put the girl to the test. Hence, one day she found herself locked in a mergers and acquisitions chamber with nothing but computers and phones for company. ‘And you cannot come out,’ said the Boss, ‘until you’ve made me fantastically rich.’
The daughter was worried by this because she knew that her father’s claims WERE all spin; and even the Prozac didn’t help her growing depression. But at this point a strange little man walked into the chamber and said: ‘For twenty per cent of the profit, I will spin so well that I will make gold.’
The girl agreed, and so the little man sat down at a desk and spun fantastically on the phones, buying this company and merging that until he amassed a fantastic fortune.
Thanking the little man, the girl phoned the Boss, who was most pleased with what she had done. However, having an instinct for gaining wealth, and a greed even bigger than his instinct, the Boss locked her in the chamber again and told her to make him even more money.
The girl popped another Prozac and wished that the little man was still there, whereupon he appeared once more. Quickly explaining the position to him, she said: ‘So can you please help me again?’
The little man thought hard. He, too, was very greedy and eventually said: ‘Of course I will, little girl, but only for forty per cent of the profits.’
The girl thought about this, and even though she had no idea how she was going to spirit away forty per cent of the profits, she said: ‘Okay.’
Thus the little man sat down once more at the desk and again did deals with such brilliance that it could only be classed as spinning gold.
‘Oh, thankyou,’ said the girl as the little man disappeared again. Then she phoned the Boss. He was over the moon, but still not satisfied. Rather, he said: ‘Make me even more of a fortune and I’ll marry you.’
The girl wasn’t really sure that she wanted to marry this sleazy, greedy, opinionated control-freak, but not wanting to cause trouble for her father, she popped yet another Prozac and wished so much for the little man to appear again. And just as she wished, he appeared.
‘Oh, little man,’ she said, ‘the Boss wants me to make even more money. What shall I do?’
‘Have no fear, little girl,’ said the even smaller man, ‘I will make more money than anyone has ever done before. But,’ he advised, ‘I want one hundred per cent of the profits.’
This was a bit of a shock to the girl. How could she make the Boss rich if the little man wanted it all? But she could worry about that later. For the moment, she simply said, ‘thankyou,’ and the little man sat down at the desk, juggled the phones, scanned the computer, and made more money than anyone had done before – indeed, he made more money than there was in the world.
‘Oh, thankyou, thankyou,’ said the little girl, ‘but I don’t know how I can give you one hundred per cent of the profits. What shall I give the Boss?’
At first the little man thought ‘well you’re marrying him, aren’t you,’ but actually said to her: ‘I’ll tell you what. I’m going away now, but if, tomorrow, you can tell me what I am, I’ll let you have all the money for the Boss.’
After the little man had gone the girl popped yet another Prozac, thinking that this fast track life was very fast. However, thinking on her feet, she sent some assistants out to bring her every newspaper they could find. Maybe, she reasoned, there would be a hint as to what the little man was in current affairs. But by the time he returned the following day, she was not confident that she could identify him.
‘Are you a commodities speculator?’ she asked.
’I am not,’ said the little man.
‘Then are you a drugs cartel launderer?’ she asked.
’I most certainly am not,’ said the little man.
Which left the girl in a difficult position. Once more she scanned the newspapers, reading report after report until they all seemed to mingle in her head. And it was then that she had a flash of insight.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘you’re New Labour.’
The little man’s face dropped and, found out, he walked out without his profit.

© Anthony North, April 2002

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WHAT RUBBISH Friday, May 25 2007

Why am I constantly having to talk a load of rubbish? Why are UK councils so insistent on penalizing people for throwing away packaging, etc, that is forced on them by business? Why is the onus on recycling placed on average people when business is not forced to change its ridiculous use of packaging?
I ask the question but the answer is obvious. Governments can’t upset big business – it might upset the economy, stupid.
The latest assault on the average person is the threat of electronic sensors on bins to ‘read’ your rubbish, and charge you as you throw. Council officials are rubbing their hands in glee.
Totalitarianism is ugly – fascism, communism, etc. I’ve often said it is good it is confined to the ‘rubbish bin of history.’ But … totalitarianism is no longer a grand scheme, but the desire of every tin pot official.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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CAN’T FLATTER YOU, I’M AFRAID Wednesday, May 23 2007

Civility, it seems, is dying. Men will not flatter the opposite sex for fear of causing offence. Women will not accept flattery for they are increasingly likely to suspect the motives behind it.
These atrocious findings come from a survey by Loire Valley White Wines. And what is most disastrous about it is that, even in partnerships, flattery seems to be dying. All this, when the survey points out that it is not what women want.
It seems that nine out of ten women actually like to be complimented. But society is now such that signals are mis-read, and suspicion rules the day. What kind of society has ‘progress’ left us with?
Not one in which society can feel at ease with itself. Gender politics, political correctness and human rights have left a mass of people who interact but no longer understand how to.
There’s nothing to flatter ourselves about there.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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BARRIER TO CLIMATE CHANGE Monday, May 21 2007

So the UK government has decided how to save the planet. Details of the new white paper are clear. Eight new nuke stations and a 10 mile concrete barrage across the Severn Estuary to capture tidal power.
There are infinite possibilities for small projects to harness alternative power. There are infinite possibilities for encouraging business to provide new, eco-friendly products. But the government seems to be opting for the most unpopular alternatives possible.
I never expected anything different. Of course they’re going to go for the monstrocities and the controvercial, for this is the only thing big business will accept. Big business can only ‘do’ big, for small doesn’t require big business to do it.
So measures to fight global warming become cosmetic; and when people complain because the power stations are ugly and the Severn barrier is destroying wildlife, then it isn’t government’s fault but stupid people who will not be ‘eco.’
One day the public will realize what is going on with the environmental debate. One day they’ll realize there isn’t one. One day they’ll realize they’ve been suckered, carrying all the responsibility themselves instead of big business.
Hopefully that day will come while there’s still time.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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DON’T HUG A HOODIE Friday, May 18 2007

David Cameron has said he believes in punishing teenage yobs. This is not back-tracking on his ‘hug a hoodie’ declaration last year for he never said it. Rather, he was intimating that we try to understand them, but punish all the same.
His new message has stronger emphasis on punishment. However, the furore over his ‘supposed’ comments need clarification. Believe it or not, most kids who wear ‘hoodies’ are perfectly law abiding. Let’s first separate them from the yob.
Once this is done, we are dealing with a small minority of kids, but this adds up to ten of thousands, creating terror in housing estates and city centres. Most of these will grow out of it and become responsible adults. But some will not.
The hard core of this minority certainly need punishment – I like Lord Tebbit’s intimation that we hug them very hard. But for the remainder, nothing cools a yob down more than embarrassing him.
I can think of no greater embarrassment than chasing him to give a hug.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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THE GOOD SAMARITAN Thursday, May 17 2007

The Good Samaritan was an excellent comedy drama on ITV 1 (UK), 16 May. Starring Shane Richie, he handled a convoluted, if obvious, plot to perfection, his ‘cheeky chappie’ persona winning the day.
The plot revolved around a suicidal Brendan Coyle ringing the Samaritans but getting Richie by mistake – HE thought it was a wind-up and told the person, in effect, to jump. He didn’t, but Richie soon realized his mistake and thought he had.
Determined to help the ‘widow’, he lavished money on her and predictably fell in love. Coyle predictably tried to sort him out, whilst at the same time, Richie’s wife wanted a divorce, the solicitor declaring his undying love for her, etc …
The Good Samaritan was in the fine tradition of the farce. We see too little of this today, and I hope it is an indication of much more to come. Preferably with Shane Richie, who was born for this kind of role. Coyle did a good job, too.

© Anthony North, May 2007

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EURO STREET Thursday, May 17 2007

It had been a sorry tale.
Of course, there was no way it could have been avoided. When you place so many disfunctional and antagonistic families of so many different persuasions in a single street, anarchy is bound to be the outcome. And so it had. And although it had been a long time ago since the trouble, an uneasy peace pervaded the whole area.
It was Mr French and Mr German who took the first moves to ease the problem. Although bitter enemies, they decided to meet and talk and try to get it together. Remarkably, there was a definite spirit about the meeting – a real feeling that it was stupid to have more trouble. Agreement was obviously just around the corner, and in a spirit of togetherness, other neighbours decided to join in the discussions. Although it was a fact that when Mr English turned up, Mr French looked at him with distaste and said: ‘No.’
Eventually, it was decided they would all meet regularly at Mr Belgium’s house to make sure they didn’t fight again, and see what they could do to help each other socially and economically.
This, it was agreed, was important, for money was tight. ‘And being so tight,’ said Mr German, ‘why don’t we all shop together at the supermarket. Pool our needs and we’ll save a fortune. ‘
Mr French was inclined to agree, as long as Mr English did his own shopping.
Thus the entire street – bar Mr English – did their shopping as one. And as the mood of friendliness and prosperity increased, it was even agreed to let Mr English join the club. However, it wasn’t long before the arguments began.
‘And why can’t we fish at the bottom of your garden,’ said them all to Mr English, who had the only garden to reach down to the river.
‘Because it’s mine. And if you try to fish there, I’ll push you out.’
Eventually, the problem with Mr English’s fish was overcome and a relative peace descended once more. But it has to be said that now and again, when they all got together, the silliest ideas came out.
Typical was the time when Mr German decided that the bananas from the supermarket were too bent. ‘They’re too bent,’ shouted Mr German as they met in Mr Beligium’s house. And rather than deciding the whole thing was silly, they agreed, sending an ultimatum to the supermarket that they wanted standard shaped bananas or they’d go elsewhere.
As is often the case in such exclusive little clubs, the time comes when one or two members decide they want the rules to be more clearly defined. Just what kind of ‘club’ were they in, and how far did the reach of the committee go? Did it simply extend to getting in the shopping, or did it have the right to tell people how to live inside their own house?
Mr French and Mr German decided the latter. Mr English predictably played up, but eventually a new agreement was made that from now on the street committee had a right over everything. And thus the dictats began:
‘Mr English, will you please put that fag out in the street.’
‘Mr German, will you stop hogging the li-lo in the communal garden.’
Predictably, it was Mr French and Mr German who eventually realised that perhaps the families in the street no longer had the right to be families at all. Maybe it was time to give each member rights above the family, and even interfere to standardise each family’s individual house housekeeping.
Some, of course, agreed. Mr English did not. Rather, he prevaricated and argued and eventually he said ’stuff you.’
Mr French felt somewhat vindicated by this, knowing that Mr English shouldn’t have been allowed to join the club in the first place. Reluctantly Mr German agreed. But without Mr English to cause Mr French and Mr German to side with each other, it wasn’t long before Mr French and Mr German began squabbling between themselves. And when they eventually looked in the mirror and saw they had submerged their identity to the point that they looked just the same, they too said ’stuff you’ and the antagonisms began all over again.

© Anthony North, October 2001

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