1. I have been to Upper Street. This means the Porchetta restaurant. Which is fine.
2. I also went to the PRO, which goes by the name of The National Archives. Or TNA, or rather the TNA. A bit like the Hoi Polloi. Makes me feel rather young fogeyish to be irritated by this relatively novel nomencalture. Rooted around in some historical stuff, and made some subsequent requests for the The Exhibition. A bit like supermaket sweep, with Lux and Lumen and Membranes thrown in, along with the British Constitution and MSS. What happend to Dale Winton?
3. Almost went to the film Mamma Mia, which is supposed to be joyful, despite itself. However, thanks to Orange Wednesdays, turns out it was sold out. Hence Upper Street. And a weird link to brother's brother-in-law Brian. Who works hard, it transpires. Natch.
4. Spotted a fab Condor on the way home, following bike route a pied. Delighted to find out that it takes 40 mins - esp. as this confirms a c18th diary I once catalogued, and recorded an evening stroll from Islington to Spaniard's Inn, Hampstead. Was doubtful, but now sure it was an easy treck.
5. Very warm. No-one is muttering about bad weather now. How long will it last? And why won't the people opposite draw their curtains? My pc faces the window, so it looks like I'm a voyeur, unless I draw mine, but then overheat. Plus, my clothes are on.
6. Exhibition. Snapped at last, and took it out on the one sane person.
7. Planning to head to Edinburgh at weekend. Looking forward to it, not least because feel the need for a break, but missing bunch of stuff, not least getting up to someting with F.
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
What the WTO?
I tried to blog a little back in 2000/2001, which now seems a long time ago. In those pre-9/11 days, the biggest story was globalisation. Naomi Klein, Noam Chomsky, Doha, people dressed in clowns, Anthony Giddens, Seattle, even GM foods seemed to be mixed up. It all seemed rather exciting, if a little trendy, and not a little to do with an irrational dislike of Nike and Starbucks. I wonder now how much it was mixed up with the Millennium and a search for optimism, and perhaps youth, plus low airfares for all the protesters to turn up.
Then I learnt a little more about TRIPS and got a sense of how the BRIC countries' economies were growing, with a certain amount of protectionism. And even McDonalds kind of changed its image. And globalisation seemed even more of a vague term, let alone the alternatives (esp. when you learned more about fair trade and how it could arguably cripple development - and, yes, there are several sides to this). And the environment seemed to attract the latest in protest movements (yes, they are linked, of course).
However, all this is a preamble to the news today that the latest round of the World Trade talks have collapsed. Most of the news bulletins have relegated this to third or worse fiddle in their running order. Mixed in with mortage glumness, commodity prices, oil shock, etc., it seems to be just another example of how the global economy in general, and Mr Brown's Britain in particular, are on the road to ruin, or a repeat of 1929. I don't recall anyone mentioning it (not that I've had much time for chatting recently), and it seems a bit of a dull story. But, I think this will be seen as An Important Moment.
Why? Well, the economy needs a bubble. The developing world is the likely place to do it, and this will stop that. Great for the factories there in the short term, but not a year or two down the line. And it's hard to argue that free trade is not good for global growth (if not local industry or wages or short-term quality of life for the majority). Instead, it's another choker on trade, just when there's a lack of liquidity in the west. And, finally, its more of a sympton of the global stage, and the freeze in international relations. There are no global statesmen, no international will to reach international agreements, no sense of urgency; rather a malaise, leading to who knows what.
Is anyone blogging about the WTO? I doubt it, except a few policy wonks and NGO types.
And all because the talks broke down over the trade in bananas.
Then I learnt a little more about TRIPS and got a sense of how the BRIC countries' economies were growing, with a certain amount of protectionism. And even McDonalds kind of changed its image. And globalisation seemed even more of a vague term, let alone the alternatives (esp. when you learned more about fair trade and how it could arguably cripple development - and, yes, there are several sides to this). And the environment seemed to attract the latest in protest movements (yes, they are linked, of course).
However, all this is a preamble to the news today that the latest round of the World Trade talks have collapsed. Most of the news bulletins have relegated this to third or worse fiddle in their running order. Mixed in with mortage glumness, commodity prices, oil shock, etc., it seems to be just another example of how the global economy in general, and Mr Brown's Britain in particular, are on the road to ruin, or a repeat of 1929. I don't recall anyone mentioning it (not that I've had much time for chatting recently), and it seems a bit of a dull story. But, I think this will be seen as An Important Moment.
Why? Well, the economy needs a bubble. The developing world is the likely place to do it, and this will stop that. Great for the factories there in the short term, but not a year or two down the line. And it's hard to argue that free trade is not good for global growth (if not local industry or wages or short-term quality of life for the majority). Instead, it's another choker on trade, just when there's a lack of liquidity in the west. And, finally, its more of a sympton of the global stage, and the freeze in international relations. There are no global statesmen, no international will to reach international agreements, no sense of urgency; rather a malaise, leading to who knows what.
Is anyone blogging about the WTO? I doubt it, except a few policy wonks and NGO types.
And all because the talks broke down over the trade in bananas.
Monday, 28 July 2008
End of Pier
The pier at Weston-Super-Mare has burnt down. This may sound somewhat cruel, but it reminds me a little of David Cameron losing his bike, which was very amusing for many, and temporarily added to the gaiety of the nation. The difference is that it seems unlikely that a 'community leader' will find a spare pier dumped around the corner by a couple of the local lads. Another difference is, of course, that not many local jobs depend on the two-wheeled Dave-mobile. Schadenfreude, of a kind (with more than a dash of dislike thrown in). The similarity, for me anyway, is the long-standing antipathy W-S-M has in a corner of my psyche, and which I didn't realise until the news of the seaside inferno reached the Today programme.
Weston-Super-Mud, as it was affectionately known, was the glamour destination of choice during my youth. I think that there was an indoor ice-skating rink there, not to mention the Trocadero, which was our equivalent of Disneyland. I may be muddling it up with Bristol, but I don't think so. Infamous visits included two Stratton's newspaperboy trips, several birthday parties, and, I think, the remains of the Brean Down washout. The Trocadero was always cold or shut, the sea somewhere in the distance, beyond the mud, and towards Wales, and the grey of the run-down Victorian mansions invariably matched the sky. It seemed to be where people went to die, or get off drugs. Or, invariably, both (and yes, I know I've used invariably twice in two adjacent sentences). The best bit was undoubtedly the pier. Which either let you look down at the sea, watch people shuffling by, eat chips, or wander underneath. I think my first or second roll of 35mm film was of shots of the pier (I think I half had in mind the scene with Andrew McCarthy in Catholic Boys).
This view appears to be rather out of date. As Gordon's recent Southwold jaunt, and countless newspaper features tell us, staying on the British coast is very now. (Another thing that Julie Birchill was right about.) I gather that T4 has great adventures every summer on the beach at Weston, and the pier had just received a several million pound makeover. (Although does this mean that mutterings of arson and insurance may be heard? Or perhaps the grudge of an ex-employee. On my fire awareness at work we were solemnly informed that this is the no. 1 cause of conflagrations. Those in the know seem to be pointing at the less TV-detective friendly chip pan fire. A suitable end for a Blackpool Pier, surely).
The moral? None that I can make out, except we all have odd grudges, you shouldn't leave your bike locked to a bollard (twat) , and that places change. Oh, and turn that chip pan off.
Weston-Super-Mud, as it was affectionately known, was the glamour destination of choice during my youth. I think that there was an indoor ice-skating rink there, not to mention the Trocadero, which was our equivalent of Disneyland. I may be muddling it up with Bristol, but I don't think so. Infamous visits included two Stratton's newspaperboy trips, several birthday parties, and, I think, the remains of the Brean Down washout. The Trocadero was always cold or shut, the sea somewhere in the distance, beyond the mud, and towards Wales, and the grey of the run-down Victorian mansions invariably matched the sky. It seemed to be where people went to die, or get off drugs. Or, invariably, both (and yes, I know I've used invariably twice in two adjacent sentences). The best bit was undoubtedly the pier. Which either let you look down at the sea, watch people shuffling by, eat chips, or wander underneath. I think my first or second roll of 35mm film was of shots of the pier (I think I half had in mind the scene with Andrew McCarthy in Catholic Boys).
This view appears to be rather out of date. As Gordon's recent Southwold jaunt, and countless newspaper features tell us, staying on the British coast is very now. (Another thing that Julie Birchill was right about.) I gather that T4 has great adventures every summer on the beach at Weston, and the pier had just received a several million pound makeover. (Although does this mean that mutterings of arson and insurance may be heard? Or perhaps the grudge of an ex-employee. On my fire awareness at work we were solemnly informed that this is the no. 1 cause of conflagrations. Those in the know seem to be pointing at the less TV-detective friendly chip pan fire. A suitable end for a Blackpool Pier, surely).
The moral? None that I can make out, except we all have odd grudges, you shouldn't leave your bike locked to a bollard (twat) , and that places change. Oh, and turn that chip pan off.
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