The Obscurer

Fear Itself

These are worrying times. Only the other day my son, barely 3 years old, told me he was going to carry a little plastic knife around with him when we went out in case he got into trouble with some bigger boys. I was truly shocked that things have come to this in 21st Century Britain. I mean, unless a giant plasticine man mugs him, that plastic thing is less than useless. So now I send him to nursery packing a good old-fashioned 5-inch flick knife. Just what are they teaching our kids these days? Plastic knife indeed!

But fear is much on people’s minds. Last week the news led on a couple of stories; our ever more dysfunctional teenagers, and the creep towards a surveillance state. ASBO’s are seen as a badge of honour, while CCTV cameras monitor our every move. Any more acronyms? Anyone? No? Just the two then.

Newsnight covered the story and treated us to a discussion featuring some experts on youth crime, and someone else called Nick Ferrari. Ferrari was described as a “broadcaster” so I have no idea what personal knowledge he brought to the party. Perhaps it is now the programme makers’ policy to invite random members of unrelated professions to debate in the interests of contrast; this weeks discussion of the US mid-terms will feature a French baker, while an article on climate change will canvas the learned opinions of an occupational therapist.

I’ve seen this Ferrari bloke before, and as ever he talked a right load of prancing pony (do you see what I did there?). It takes a real talent I feel to disengage your brain so fully and so keep a straight face while talking about “prisons being holiday camps with colour tvs” and police who will “jump on you in seconds if you eat a chocolate bar while driving” but will let the burglars be. Can someone tell me the point of Nick Ferrari? What is it for? Wikipedia inform me that he is a talk radio presenter in London, but I don’t see why that means he has to be foisted upon the majority of the population fortunate enough to lie outside the range of LBC’s transmitters.

Anyway, I digress. That Newsnight programme discussed the ever-faster descent of the nation’s youth into alcopop-fuelled, hoodie hell; and this grim opinion went unchallenged. Meanwhile the CCTV issue was raised, that we are being watched every second of our waking lives, with again no dissenting opinion on view. Needless to say we were once more shown that same CCTV footage of those same lads smashing the window of that van (as I posted on here; my Wife and I cheered when it inevitably appeared); they are the sort of ASBO flaunting youths who would no doubt be causing all our problems, were it not for the fact that the featured film is so old that both gents are currently on a SAGA mini-break. Much was made on Newsnight of the irony that that our lives are ever more monitored while our fear of crime is higher than ever.

But is it an irony, really, that problems with ASBO’s and CCTV cameras, apparently contradictory fears, are in the news at the same time? Are they not really just different examples of the same thing, of people’s irrational fears, lovingly stoked by the media and government for their own ends?

Perhaps there was a halcyon age when people left their doors unlocked and youths were little angels; that is when they weren’t scrumping (ie. stealing) apples. I don’t know. What I do reckon though is that the “yoofs” are largely no worse than in my day, which was a wee while ago. For as long as I can remember people have complained about the “youth of today”, with civilisation so far having failed to collapse as a result. Yes gangs of hooded youths on street corners can seem intimidating, but when I walk past them into the off-licence they tend to ignore me; and why shouldn’t they? I’m really not that interesting. Perhaps I would feel different if I lived in a different area, but as most of the loudest critics of today’s kids are classic middle Englanders, rather than people from “the projects”, I’m not sure how relevant that is to this discussion.

This fear of youths, of course, is one of the reasons, or excuses, for the build up of CCTV cameras, so to some extent the two issues are entwined. To return the favour, you would think that the fact that there are, apparently, hordes of youths causing mayhem every night in defiance of the surveillance society would point out that we are not yet in the age of Big Brother; but no. I think a genuine concern about creeping totalitarianism is certainly valid, but exaggerating it is just daft. It is true that technology enables databases all over the place containing all sorts of personal information about us; but I am more concerned that there could possibly be anyone out there so dull that they would actually want to pore over the details of how I have earned my Nectar points. Yes, unscrupulous people accessing your private details is a concern, but was ever thus; that problem is one of unscrupulous people. Of course there are CCTV cameras everywhere, but usually, whenever I am potentially being watched by CCTV operators I am also potentially being watched by loads of other people, be it shoppers on the High Street or curtain twitching neighbours. Again, I really don’t think I am so interesting for people to bother; my confidence is less about “having nothing to hide”, more that I can’t believe anyone can be arsed to monitor my activity that closely. I suppose it is possible in theory that all the disparate databases could be pulled together so that everything I do is being scrutinised by the state, but quite frankly that suggests a level of competency and resources that our security services haven’t shown to date.

But if it is the media and government that are stoking the fear, to some extent that is because they are feart themselves. Fear has got us here, because fear sells. The likes of the Mail and the Express are petrified of being outflanked by each other in lamenting the way Britain is going to the dogs, and so each runs more exaggerated and outlandish stories pointing out where they think it is all going wrong. And government, when not merely attacking civil liberties for their own sake, often responds out of fear of being seen to be doing nothing. Many will decry actions that smack of the intrusive state and breaches of confidentiality; but come the next rise in recorded street crime, or the next terrorist outrage, or the next tragic death of a child who has slipped through the social services net, how many of those same people will complain of the lack of legal sanctions, or the poor quality of the intelligence services, or how the various authorities haven’t adequately shared their masses of separate information?

Can I suggest we calm down a little and get things in perspective? Or am I being complacent and naïve? Probably I am. I may change my mind about the nation’s youth if in the next minute a brick smashes through the window and whistles past my ear. I know that some youths do cause serious problems for people and make their lives hell; but I also feel that much is exaggerated and that the fear of youths is far greater than the reality. With regards the surveillance state, I don’t think we should just trust government to get it right, I still oppose ID cards and I don’t think the police should be given carte blanche to flick through our medical records like they are a copy of Hello! magazine, we should demand safeguards that any information that is stored is only ever used for specific and justifiable reasons. We should concentrate on the real dangers, to prevent information itself being misused, not on hyperbolic nonsense about our lives being on hard drives and of cameras constantly tracking us.

So let’s not be too scared of those hooded youths outside Spar; they’re probably more interested in copping off than with mugging you. Who cares if you are on CCTV all the time? The chances are that no one’s bothering to watch.

Let’s all chill out a bit.

Flag Day

Perhaps it’s just me, but I can’t read about this, without thinking of this…

Update 30/10/06: Just found this video, which was the inspiration for the Simpsons parody. You may find it interesting, you may not.

Silence Is Golden

I think “light-blogging” is the appropriate phrase to describe the past month on this website, for all sorts of reasons, both obvious and less so; but I have been briefly spurred into action by listening to Melanie Phillips on Radio 4’s PM programme yesterday.

The reason for her appearance (yeah, like you didn’t know) was to weigh into the argument on Jack Straw’s behalf concerning his aversion to Muslim women wearing the veil, in particular when speaking at his constituency surgery. Our Mel was quite clear on the fact that while she respects peoples’ religious freedoms and the right to wear the appropriate garb, wearing the veil is quite different. What is especially different about wearing a veil as opposed to say a turban, or a yarmulke? Is it because it is a significant barrier to communication and a sign of separateness, or is it simply because it is a symbol of the Muslim faith?

Melanie claimed it was the former of course, but I have my doubts. To me, as I listened to her performance, she clearly and effectively communicated her Islamophobia; I could imagine her pinched, twisted, and contorted features as she was repeatedly forced to spit out the word “Muslim” during the interview, as if she had just taken salt and lemon and was about to down a tequila. Funnily enough, the fact that this all occurred on radio – where I couldn’t bear witness to Melanie’s actual facial expressions – didn’t hamper the blatant message she was transmitting to me; thus undermining the whole bogus basis of her argument.

God I’m getting sick of this. The other day it was PC Basha being relieved of his duties outside the Israeli embassy, and now it is this Jack Straw business. Remove the Islamic element from the stories and all you have on the one hand is that “a member of staff asks to be excused duty on compassionate grounds, and his line manager, while not being obliged to accede, kindly does”, and on the other “an MP states a silly but perfectly legitimate personal preference with regards speaking to his constituents”. Sadly though, for both these stories, the Islamic element is present, which allows stupid people on both sides to dive into the trenches and strafe no man’s land. Can we not just leave them to it?

So I’m escaping. Thanks to my parents we are off on holiday to Spain to get away from it all. Yes, a fortnight of no-British-news-please will do very nicely thank you very much. Do they have to put up with this crap down in Andalusia do you think? Or should that be Al-Andalus?

Oh, you just take your pick, according to your bigotry. I shall return in just two of your Earth “weeks”.

Outstanding

Paul never wrote a blog – I’m not sure he knew what one was, and I never told him about this thing – but if he had done I think you would have liked it. I suppose the nearest he got to it was writing an album review of Kenny Thomas’ The Best on Amazon a few years ago.

It was a somewhat tongue-in-cheek review; Mr Thomas blighted an otherwise merely shit night for everyone in Stockport’s legendary Coco Savannah Night Club a good few years ago when he appeared on stage unadvertised to sing three tunes, one of which was merely a reprise of his first song. Now called Heaven And Hell, Coco’s is but a stone’s throw from where Paul chose to take his life.

Anyway, I loved Paul’s review, so here it is in its entirety, and for posterity. Just see what you make of it, and see what we are all missing.

What KT Did

This Best Of compilation serves as a timely reminder to fans of why Kenny was such a musical force and gives non-devotees a chance to sample his gloriously soulful vocal talents.

Of the 16 tracks here only 11 sound the same and KT still manages to infuse each one with passion, wit and meaning ( and dare I suggest magic as well? ) He is by turns smooth balladeer, playful seducter and even raucous groove-meister.

“Tender Love” sees our Kenny at his most visionary. I wonder just how many couples have fallen in or out of love to this haunting number? I’m sure I’m not the only one for whom this song holds precious memories. Kenny’s touching delivery will always remind me of that special weekend in Runcorn.

In the hands of a lesser talent ( Michael Bolton, Marvin Gaye etc ) “Trippin’ on your love” could be bland and forgettable drivel but Kenny lifts the song (and our spirits) with his stirring performance. As my parents generation used to say he truly does have “the groove” going on.

KT answers any suggestion that his sound is nothing more than watered down imagination-free pap with the sublime “Stay”, the delightful “Best of You” and the club party within a song that is “De Grooveski”.

All this plus the opening track- “Outstanding”- the hit that first brought KT to the attention of a grateful public. How many superlatives can be hurled at this great number?Any description I could think of would barely do it justice – suffice it to say it simply remains the glittering crown in Kenny’s family jewels, the creme de menthe of his blistering career.

I urge everyone to buy this CD or one quite like it. Let’s hope “Best Of” returns Kenny Thomas to the forefront of pop/soul/disco/karaoke – where he rightly belongs.

Here’s looking at you, our kid.

Logic Of A Friend

You may not have noticed, but when I’m not picking shit puns, I often name my blog posts after song titles, or lyrics. This post, for example, is named after a track by Badly Drawn Boy, from an album that has gained new meaning for me over the past week.

The title of my previous post was also derived from a song lyric; in that case a line from the track At The Zoo, by Simon and Garfunkel. My fondest memory connected with the song is of listening to it in the car while driving my mate Paul back home many years ago. If you know the track you will be aware of the instrumental part in the middle, between the two verses, which culminates in a series of handclaps. As we drove down Claremont Road in Cheadle Hulme, at the required moment and unrehearsed, we simultaneously joined in with the claps, a tricky-ish manoeuvre when driving and approaching a road junction; but as we agreed, it was just one of those things you had to do.

Fond memories, however, are now all I have left. A week ago yesterday, for reasons I will never truly fathom, Paul made one final tortuous journey to the middle of Stockport viaduct, and jumped. It’s a big drop, and I don’t know if anyone has survived the fall before; what I do know is that Paul didn’t. And further words are hard to come by.

I hope he is at some sort of peace now.

To live in the hearts of those that you loved
Is not to die.