The Obscurer

Month: January, 2006

Monday 23rd January 2006

The Hollow Men

In between criticising the mainstream media, many bloggers admit that given the chance they would like to be columnists on a broadsheet newspaper (that is, if the term hasn’t yet lost its meaning in this age of “compacts” and “berliners”). Some, however, seem to be setting their sights a little lower while the rest of us are looking at the stars.

A case in point being the recent actions of Guido Fawkes and Recess Monkey. Last week they apparently published a podcast of their dried voices discussing political gossip. When Mark Oaten subsequently resigned from the Lib Dem’s leadership race, and then from the party’s front bench due to tabloid allegations, Guido for one gleefully claimed the credit announcing that “Its the pod what did it”; although surely that should read “it’s the ‘cast what did it”? Either way, although I have been aware of Guido’s blog for a while I’ve never really read it, and now I know why. Some bloggers want to be a Monbiot or a Krugman, other clearly fancy themselves as a 3am girl. Well each to their own.

Guido’s argument is that his blog is a tabloid affair, the stuff of gossip and rumour mongering; and if that was all then I could happily just ignore him and I wouldn’t be writing this post. What I find difficult to ignore is how someone can so proudly claim responsibility (erroneously I suspect) for the week’s events. It is one thing to revel in tittle-tattle, quite another to cheerfully gloat about your own part in potentially destroying another man’s career and family life. Whatever gives you a rosy glow, I guess.

Oaten is of course largely the author of his own destruction, and it is wrong to lose sight of that. If you have such a skeleton in your closet, and yet still run for the leadership of your party knowing what you know about the press in this country, then you have got to expect a bit of trouble; it is certainly a high-risk strategy. The primary reason I have not made myself rich and famous is because the last thing I want to come back and haunt me is the fact that I spent much of the ‘eighties poking badgers with spoons; I won’t be running for high office.

But who is really the more unpleasant character here; Oaten or Guido? For example, take two people, one who says in private that “I think that Quinn is a twat”, and another who comes up to me and says, “X says he thinks you’re a twat”. I may not personally like the first person but he is perfectly entitled to his opinion, while the second is a sneak who should be shunned by all. If my analogy reminds you of the school playground, then that is little wonder.

In his comments on Chicken Yoghurt, Guido explains his raison d’etre thusly

To follow the money, hypocrisy and dishonesty of those who want to be our masters in an amusing accessable populist tabloid fashion. The whole lobby keeping secrets thing undermines democracy. A pox a the lot of them

So he is doing this for us, and in defence of democracy, is he? Well I’m all for holding politicians to account, I have a pretty low opinion of them myself, but I’d rather criticise them for their policies and public pronouncements than for what they do in their private lives, which has fuck all to do with their competence as elected representatives.

Guido is entitled to say what he likes, but I can’t see the point in having a pop at politicians for being sleazy when all you are doing is engaging in sleazy mudslinging yourself. I don’t understand the idea of setting yourself up as some sort of anti-establishment rebel attacking “our masters” if you are then going to defend your blog on the grounds that it is “popular”, with a “six-figure readerships per month”, and to dismiss “most of the criticism” you receive because it only comes “from bloggers with 7 readers”*. What’s that about “the slave begins by demanding justice…”?

The final word though must go to Guido, from the comments on his own blog. He advises those who don’t like his style to “Fuck off and read the Indy”. Now that sounds like an excellent idea. With luck our paths won’t cross again.

*Guido can’t be referring to me here, as I still aspire to getting seven readers; although I love each and every one of you.

This whole sordid business could put me off blogging, but that would be quite wrong, for while Guido is raising his glass to celebrate his own part in wrecking a family, Occupied Country, in two posts, opens his heart over the recent trials involving himself and his parents. It is moving and humbling to read Steve’s posts; it shows just how blogging can be a sharing and (hopefully) cathartic exercise, and reminds you of how there are much more important things to be concerned about. Best wishes, Steve, to you and your family.

2 Comments
Saturday 21st January 2006

The Obscurer Awards 2006

Welcome once again to this historic 1920’s ex-council semi, and more specifically to the prestigious “Pantry Room”. Until early 2003 this room languished as just a storage space for the hoover, the ironing board and last Christmas’s wrapping paper; but a sympathetic renovation that year saw it transformed into the computer room for the new PC. Since August 2004 it has become the home of The Obscurer, and tonight it is the venue for the second annual Obscurer Awards!

(APPLAUSE)

And so without further ado, let us announce the winners.

  • Best Single – Razorlight/Somewhere Else. It is quite unusual for me to buy singles, but I bought this one in part because this song wasn’t included on Razorlight’s so-so debut album “Up All Night” (one of those records where you find when you buy it that you know all the good tracks already, although it has grown on me since). Great start to the song with chiming oriental bells, then a strummed acoustic guitar reminiscent of The Beatles “Things We Said Today”, and then the song builds, quietly at first as it tells it’s odd tale of boy meets girl, then gradually growing in volume and intensity as Johnny Borrell’s singing becomes more frantic and raw, throwing out lines of poetic guff about “catching the sparks that flew from your heels” until the song gallops to its conclusion. Just over three minutes of pure pop, the way it should be.
  • Best Album – Doves/Some Cities. A fantastic return to form from fellow blues Doves after their previous album “The Last Broadcast” saw them treading water to some extent. This time round rather than get too complicated and write “Lost Souls III” they have developed a far more subtle and simplistic sound, but all the more innovative and sophisticated for all that. It also must have earned them a fortune from its use as background music all over the place, so you probably know half the stuff here even if you don’t realise it. You’ll know you know “Black and White Town”, the first single from the album that hits the ground running sounding like the bastard child of “Lust For Life” and “Heatwave” and was an early contender for single of the year, but the rest of the album is more than a match for it. And it sounds like an album too; I enjoyed Kaiser Chiefs “Employment” (Blur, if they’d been inspired by Freddie and The Dreamers rather than The Kinks) and Gorrilaz “Demon Days” (Blur, but armed with a Casio VL-tone), but they do seem like just a collection of individual songs; on “Some Cities” tracks perfectly flow into one another like they are part of some divine running order, and when listening to the whole thing from beginning to end you feel you are getting more than the sum of its parts, as is the case with the best albums. Standout tracks for me are “Almost Forgot Myself”, “One Of These Days” and “Someday Soon”; best title of a track is “Shadows Of Salford”, because it must be inspired by mishearing the line “shadows of sulphur” from Beck’s song “Lazy Flies” from “Mutations“, as I do every time I listen to that song.
    A worthy mention also for The Boo Radleys “Find A Way Out”, sadly not a new album but a fine greatest hits package nonetheless. I was a fan of the band from 1991 when their second EP inspired a trainspotterish devotion in me; they were one of those bands that could do no wrong in my eyes. When they briefly hit it big with “Wake Up Boo!” I was delighted they had developed from minor shoegazers to (almost) pop chart-toppers; when they responded to that success by coming out with the raucous anti-pop of “C’mon Kids” (their finest album) I again dutifully agreed with the path they were taking. “Find A Way Out” has clearly been compiled by someone who knew what they were doing; it includes the obvious singles, but also the finest album and b-side tracks, as well a few songs even I don’t have (a version of “Tomorrow” from Bugsy Malone for Gods sake!). It should find a space in everyone’s record collection.
  • Best Book – David Clayton/Kinkladze: The Perfect 10. Some of the biggest names in literary fiction brought out novels last year. I bought “Saturday” by Ian McEwan, “Never Let Me Go” by Kazou Ishiguro and “Arthur and George” by Julian Barnes. Didn’t read them though. Fingers crossed I will deal with them when I go to Cornwall in May (although Ishiguro’s “When We Were Orphans” went with me on about three holidays before I finally dealt with it, and wished I hadn’t bothered. He’s on a final warning). So last years “Best Novel” award has been re-titled as “Best Book”, but unless you have a special interest in the subject then you probably won’t want to read my choice anyway. On the other hand if you were one of the troops of Man City fans who questioned their sexuality during the three years Georgi Kinladze starred for the club (I know lads who sent him Valentines cards) then this book is for you, and me. It isn’t the best written of books by any stretch of the imagination; I can see why the author thought it necessary to include a brief history of Georgia in the book, but it is clichéd and needn’t be there. Similarly, the section on Georgi’s early life and times reads more like a school creative writing exercise than part of a published work (“not long after they returned home (from hospital when Gio was born), incredibly, Georgi began crawling” – bollocks he did. “As soon as he could stand up on his own, Robizon (Gio’s father) rolled a football to the infant and the two year old Georgi trapped it with his left foot” – no he didn’t. And you’re saying he crawled immediately but only stood up at two? “Georgi was also a very good arm wrestler, and whenever the kids in the street would challenge him, Georgi was always the best.” – don’t you mean bestest in the world ever ever?) But once we get Kinky to City either David Clayton’s writing improves or I just don’t care anymore as we re-live all those memorable moments; that first game against Spurs when the new signing with the unpronounceable name seemingly had the ball glued to his foot, until he passed it perfectly with a nonchalant flick; the Southampton goal when the whole of Maine Road seemed to crowd under that stands to watch it again on telly at half time; those other classic goals against Middlesbrough in the league and West Ham in the cup; and the sight of him trudging off the pitch at the Britannia Stadium in Stoke as we went our separate ways, Gio to Ajax, City to the second division. I think that Clayton is mostly spot on with his observations, although he does avoid the fact that many City fans (though not me) were questioning his contributions towards the end, saying he was a luxury when we needed battlers (as if football isn’t intended as a spectator sport). He is also an effective apologist for Kinky’s latter days; arguing that his Ajax career (where he was bought as a replacement for Jari Litmanen) was scuppered first when Litmanen stayed and then when the manager who bought him left; and how his time at Derby was hugely hampered by injury (though he still won a player of the year award) then fucked up good and proper by the outstanding work of some of his many agents. As a Kinkladze fan I am inclined to unquestioningly believe this as being an accurate account of Kinky’s difficulties, but Clayton doesn’t gloss over the infuriating way Gio’s career has turned out, a tragic case of potential unfulfilled, and I think there is enough in “Kinkladze: The Perfect 10” to interest any football fan.
  • Best Film – I haven’t been to the cinema at all this year. After last years default win for Fahrenheit 9/11 I think this category is pretty much defunct.
  • Best Sporting Moment – 2nd Ashes Test, Edgbaston. Liverpool’s jammy victory in the European Cup was looking good as the most remarkable sporting moment of the year, until the England cricket team started acting up. After the expected defeat in the first test at Lords (another tradition fucked up for no good reason; Lords should always be the second test), the clever money was on an Ashes whitewash to Australia. Sure, perhaps England could be a match for the Aussies in a few years time, after the retirement of Warne and McGrath, but not just yet. And it was McGrath’s intervention before the game had even started that helped swing the match England’s way when he stood on a loose cricket ball while warming up, so ruling himself out of the game; I showed my disappointment at the news the only way I knew, by punching the air repeatedly. England batted first and seemed to treat it as if it was a one-day game scoring a ridiculous 407 all out on the first day, playing Australia at their own game; it was particularly great to see Flintoff and Pietersen together at the crease and getting good scores, twatting the ball all over the shop. In reply Australia made 308, Warne memorably giving his wicket away hilariously by charging down the pitch to Giles, missing with his slog and being clean bowled. England, then, were in the unlikely position of having a first innings lead, but made a poor start to their second innings as wickets tumbled to Lee and Warne and you could see it all slipping away; that is until Flintoff arrived and crashed a rapid 73 off 86 balls, an absurd way to play considering the state of play in the game but it did the trick, and assisted by Simon Jones for the last wicket stand they gave England something to bowl at. Australia made a decent start to their second innings and gradually began to eat into their target, but dropped wickets along the way. It was looking delicately poised, but when Harmison bowled Clarke with the last ball of the third day it looked like England had just about done enough; Australia needed 108 to win with just 2 wickets left and many (though not me!) were already talking of England having levelled the series. In the event the fourth day of play on Sunday was excruciating; while my son watched Cbeebies I listened to the radio as Australia calmly rattled towards England’s total. It was the pace as much as anything that depressed; they scored runs at a steady clip and slowly it began to look inevitable that they would win. Hopes were raised when Warne trod on his stumps for 42, but last wicket pair Lee and Kasprowicz carried on where Warne and Lee had left off, advancing relentlessly towards their target. When my son graciously fell asleep I watched the closing stages on Channel 4 and I was resigned to defeat, watching the TV screen through my fingers as Australia moved within 2 runs of England’s score, thoroughly depressed as I just couldn’t see how England would ever get into such a good position against the Aussies again. I knew the old cliché that we only needed one good ball to win the game but it didn’t look like coming as Australia barely put a foot wrong until Kaspowicz “gloved” the ball high in the air for Geraint Jones to take the catch (for once) and I danced and leapt about the living room, whooping and hollering, looking like a complete knob, whole my son continued to sleep on the settee.
  • Best TV Moment – Casanova. I was looking forward to watching Archangel one Saturday; scripted by Ian Le Frenais and Dick Clements, based on a Robert Harris novel a friend had recommended (but which I hadn’t read), it looked like it couldn’t fail. It was all action but totally unengaging, and after half an hour I was fast asleep. It was so bad that the following day I approached “Casanova” with caution, wondering if I could ever find any interest in TV drama again. Five minutes in and “Casanova” changed all that; it was simply fantastic. The script and dialogue from Russell T Davies sparkled, the performances from all were inspired, the whole look and feel of the production was top notch. There wasn’t a lull through all 3 episodes but the highlight must be the final scene when Edith (Rose Byrne) speaks to the old Casanova (Peter O’Toole) on his deathbed. The emotions unfurled as love and death crash headlong into one another in the scene were so powerful that I cried like a baby, great big sobs that caused my shoulders to heave and I burbled “this is ridiculous” as I smeared great wells of tears from my eyes. Now I’m not immune from having a good cry occasionally, “It’s a Wonderful Life” is my all time favourite film, but nothing has ever affected me quite like that. It was a remarkable end to a remarkable serial.
  • Best Radio Moment – Jonathan Ross on Radio 2. I only really instituted the radio award last year to commemorate the end of Mark and Lard’s Radio 1 show; long term I think this one may go the way of the Film award. I can’t think of a specific radio moment, but this year has seen me listen fairly regularly to Jonathan Ross’s Saturday show on Radio 2. I had meant to listen to it for ages, but three Saturday mornings on the trot spent driving long distances in the car (going to holiday in Perthshire and then the Lakes) meant I had the chance to get a bit of serious radio listening done, and it is a habit I have managed to continue at home. Ross is definitely at his best on radio; while his TV chat show can get a bit irritating and feels staged, everything seems far more natural on radio and the whole show flows better, as if he doesn’t have to try too hard. He also has fewer “celebrity” guests on radio, so the people he does interview are usually all the more interesting as a result. Can you imagine him talking to David Gedge on the telly, or to Nancy Dell’Olio on radio? No, neither can I. I know which I prefer.
  • Best Blog Post – The Sharpener/From the Office of Sleazy Intelligence. A new category this year, by a blogger I don’t often read but should (Jamie K) from a group blog I do always read (The Sharpener). This is just an inspired piece of creative writing, as the author imagines a life of espionage in dubious service of these fair isles, engaged in “double crosses, triple thinks and quadruple bluffs”. What do you want to do with your life? Jamie seems to hanker after being a rumpled and sordid Noel Coward figure in a Graham Greene novel; if he never manages it then I hope he can be content with being a fantastic writer.
Leave a comment
Tuesday 17th January 2006

Branded

There are many things to be concerned about in the world today; Tony Blair’s relentless populist wheezes that repeatedly strike away at our historic freedoms, the continued nuclear brinkmanship over Iran, the fact that according to the tabloids (and who can doubt them) every potential teacher is a paedophile, or every teacher is potential paedophile, or something.

But one thing that has really frustrated me since the launch of ITV4 in November has been the way that their logo hasn’t fitted in with the image of the other three existing ITV channels. I know it shouldn’t, but it really has been bothering me, and led to a few sleepless nights I can tell you.

I needn’t have worried of course, someone was on the case, and yesterday we saw the fruits of their efforts, the new “idents” for the whole portfolio of ITV channels. And very nice they are too; I’m not knocking them. They are certainly not the sort of thing you can rattle off in half an hour, although personally, were I tasked with the job of designing the new logos I would be a bit fed up if I’d got bogged down with them for more than an afternoon. It would take me a short while to select the neatest font, a bit longer to pick the most appealing colours, but that would be about it.

ITV didn’t ask me if I could redesign the logos though, which is their loss, as by the looks of it I would have saved them a small fortune. ITV’s new identity, needless to say, is the result of a dreaded project, in this case one entitled Brand 2010 according to this press release. Rather than just employ me for half a day, the Brand 2010 “team” were augmented by M&C Saatchi, WPPMindShare and Red Bee (formally BBC Broadcast). I have no idea how many people must have been involved in this project, but it sounds like a lot. I also don’t know how long this project lasted, but I suspect it took a significant amount of time. The name Brand 2010 alone won’t have sprung up overnight, it will have been developed and debated over numerous jugs of coffee and plates of biscuits in a meeting room where “I think we can all knock off early today and resume tomorrow?” And as with most projects of this kind, rather than shamefully admit just how much time and money has been wasted on a largely trivial project, the order of the day is to boast of the same, to justify the hours worked on the whole pointless exercise, to detail the exact extent of their corporate faffing about; so we know from the press release that Brand 2010 was “a comprehensive and wide-reaching project” (rather than just involving me and some magic markers), involved “6000 viewers” and “company wide workshops with staff” (who I would imagine decided that the new logos are “alright, really, yeah”) thanks to which we now know the “personality” of each ITV channel (I confess, had I been given the job, I wouldn’t have thought about investigating each channel’s individual personality; which is probably why I wasn’t asked).

And what are these personalities? Well you probably didn’t know until now, but ITV1 “ captures a range of human emotions and viewers feel connected as a result”. The “ITV1 logo opens out at the start of each ident to encapsulate the emotion in each scene”, “this logo device is also taken through into the on-screen design elements for the channel in a bold and clear design that ensures that the programming shines as hero”. The programmer as hero, eh? In contrast, “ITV2 programming has an addictive quality to it – you just can’t help watching it!” (their exclamation mark!) Yes, “this channel is centred on fun, excess, and general over-the-topness – too much of everything. It’s a journey through a visually rich, vibrant and stylish ITV2 environment.” ITV3’s idents are a “visual links between an object and its environment from with the viewer can interpret their own story” while ITV4 “is based around ‘the collision of opposites’”. So if you thought ITV3 was just where thay repeated classic drama, and ITV2 was for shit chat shows and repeats of the soaps, you are a fool.

It would be unfair to single ITV out for this idiocy, every large organisation indulges in the same thing (although I find few press releases as unintentionally hilarious), and if it keeps some people gainfully employed and out of trouble while they strive to justify their existence and spin their projects out for all they’re worth then what do I care. I’d take one of these jobs if they were going, they sound like a right doss, and I can talk shite with the best of them, as this blog regularly proves. It is also only fair to draw a distinction between those behind the technical work involved in creating and producing the actual idents themselves (which are quite beautifully filmed and must be the result of genuine hard work by people far more intelligent and talented than myself) and those responsible for the pretentious and meaningless rubbish I have outlined above. Re-branding can work, of course – one instantly thinks of Levi’s, or Tango – and if Brand 2010 does increase ITV’s profits then all well and good; but if it fails that won’t put them off going through exactly the same rigmarole next time. Indeed if this particular re-branding does fail it will just bring forward the date of the next re-brand. Anyone free for Brand 2015?

I can see why the consultants and agencies directly involved in these projects act as they do, but why are the client companies’ complicit in this palaver? Think how much money they could save if the whole industry was organised on a piecework basis, if you got paid for the swiftness and volume of re-brands you did. It would involve a fraction of the time and expense currently incurred, but would there be any real loss of quality?

Meanwhile, in government, Gordon Brown is showing that he too can engage in total and utter bollocks. In his speech to the Fabian Society at the weekend (link via) discussing his ideas on “Britishness” he lamented the fact that “unlike America and many other countries, we have no constitutional statement or declaration enshrining our objectives as a country; no mission statement defining purpose; and no explicitly stated vision of our future.”

Perhaps it is just me, but on the occasions when I hear an American talking about how the United States is not only a nation but also a cause I am unable to stifle a world weary groan; the only thing that lightens my gloom is the fact that in Britain we tend to avoid going in for this guff. Now Brown wants to change all that. Ta.

And as for a “mission statement”, is there anyone who thinks they are anything other than a complete waste of time – other than those who commission them, and, it seems, our Prime Minister elect? It is often said that government should try to emulate the private sector, and there may well be a good case for such a policy; but must they always seek to ape its worst excesses, its Brand 2010 type toss, rather than implement those elements of business that serve a useful purpose and which we actually benefit from?

3 Comments
Saturday 14th January 2006

Goal!

There are lots of things about football that must confuse non-devotees. How can you cheer a last minute equaliser more than a crushing victory? How can you come home disheartened after an unconvincing win over a poor and unfortunate opponent? How can a goalless game still be entrancing?

But most of all, how do you explain to someone who doesn’t watch the game that even when your team does force the ball into the net, that you may not celebrate instantly because you just feel that something is wrong! You suspect offside, but you’re not sure. And that the best feeling is not the ball crossing the line, but that delayed emotion you sense when the ball hits the back of the net yet you instinctively crane your head around the cheering hordes to spy the linesman, flag down, legging it full pelt back towards the halfway line.

Then, and only then, do you let rip.

e.g

3 Comments
Monday 9th January 2006

"I Am The Sun…

…I am the New Year” sang The Breeders way back when on their Last Splash album, and who am I to argue?

Yes, I can tell it’s New Year and that the holiday period is over because once again we are being inundated at home with sales calls at all hours of the day. I had forgotten what it was like to hear the phone ring and assume it is my credit card company mithering me, but that feeling is back in earnest.

So the tele-sales people are back at work, but here at The Obscurer I just can’t be arsed at the moment, so this is little more than a “holding post”, to say that I have survived the seasonal excesses and I am still alive, but when normal-ish service will be resumed I cannot tell. But I shall return; I’m going nowhere.

Leave a comment