Saturday 22 January 2011

10 o'Clock Live

Well okay, I'll admit it was a mistake to start a blog in the same week I got Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. I did manage to break away from the game long enough to watch Channel 4's new comedic politics show, 10 o'clock Live and that made me a little angry, so I'll write about that. Fortunately I didn't watch it live and had a chance to see my twitter feed's damning of it first, thus lowering my expectations enough to find it mildly amusing in places.

David Mitchell was good. I don't really have problem with anything David Mitchell did. If the whole show had been David Mitchell and C4 renamed it The David Mitchell Gets Annoyed At People While An Audience Cheers Him On Show I would have declared it a resounding success, but unfortunately Mr Mitchell was let down by his co-hosts.

Sarah Palin has been in the news this week defending her campaign rhetoric and use of the term 'blood libel' in the wake of the Tuscon shootings, so Charlie Brooker gave us pre-recorded segment on her which started with a brief reminder of who she is and then continued with... well, nothing. It stopped after that. I understand the need for filler segments in a live show but this felt quite empty, just an excuse for a few jokes about how she's right wing and female, as if anyone who sat down to watch 10 o'clock Live didn't already know that

My intelligence was insulted even more by Lauren Laverne's celebrity news look at the independance of southern Sudan. Maybe it was meant as a satire of gossip shows, but we all know celebrity gossip isn't real news. Even they would have some tact if they tried covering an event like this. Maybe it's a statement on the youth of today's apathy towards global news. Except, this is a news show aimed at today's youth, isn't it?

That was, incidently, the only time Lauren Laverne was allowed to give any news or attempt comedy. The rest of the time she - presumably as the only female presenter - was given the role of mother, keeping the others in line so the ad-breaks happened on time.

Jimmy Carr, wearing a very fine suit, was exactly how you would expect Jimmy Carr to be. My problem with Jimmy Carr on this show is the same as my problem with Jimmy Carr on any show, including his live ones: he is a lot wittier than he is funny. I say this as a fan. I like Jimmy Carr, I don't mean to attack him, but he's at his worst when he's working from a script. He has an incredibly sharp wit and this doesn't show at all in segments like the holiday guide to Tunisia (which, like Laverne's World News Now, assumed me to be a lethargic eighteen year old only watching the show because I'd lost the remote).

I don't mind that his interview with scientist Bjorn Lomberg favoured humour over science any more than I mind David Mitchell's populist approach to questioning David Willetts over student fees. A comedian's job is to be funny. Sure they should be raising issues on a show like this but no-one is expecting them to solve them. I just want to be treated with a little more respect. I'll tune in next week, don't worry about that, but I flatter myself thinking myself intelligent, Channel 4, it's only polite you think that of me too.

Tuesday 11 January 2011

Democracy and Monarchy

I don't mind that my party lost the 2010 general election. I wish they hadn't, sure, but I don't feel cheated. In fact, the candidate I voted for won his constituency (Norwich South) and his party formed a coalition with another party of losers. Together they claim to have won. I am not at all happy with this result but they've played by rules I judge to be reasonably fair and I certainly feel my vote counted for something. Perhaps if I voted for Labour, I'd feel different. Perhaps next time when I may well vote for Labour, I'll feel different, but that's a thought for another time.

What does concern me is that David Cameron is in the highest possible elected office in this country and yet is not the Head of State. Elizabeth of Windsor claims that honour, along with the conflicting role as Supreme Governess of the Church of England. The monarchy may have highly restricted powers and duties, but chief among those duties is official representation of the United Kingdom.

I don't want David Cameron representing me. I feel a little betrayed by the Lib Dems for allowing this to happen, but I'll take it because I know that in four years time I'll get another chance to pick my parliament. Not only will I never get a say in choosing the next monarch, I am also offended by the rules regarding succession.

This royal family which claims to represent me overlooks two natural rights I feel strongly about: freedom of religion and gender equality. A son inherits before a daughter and if you're not protestant you can't inherit at all. I can understand hereditary powers: The tribal chieftan's son had the best training to become the next tribal chief. The tribal chieftan wants to provide for his immediate family and naming his son heir is the best way to do that. That made sense two thousand years ago and tradition is nothing if not persistant. Of course the availability of education for everyone means the noble classes can no longer be assumed the best choice to rule, and haven't been for a long time. I don't think that's news to anyone though.

What I cannot possibly understand is hereditary faith. This is a very personal matter unique to each individual and to name someone the next head of a church - again, with highly restricted powers and duties - upon their birth seems extremely absurd. In this country you are protected against descrimination based on gender or religion unless you plan to lead it. Only male protestants, please. Okay, we'll allow a woman this time, but don't expect us to like it.

Curious about public support for the monarchy I found an ICM report from 2009. I can't find the poll itself so I don't know how many people were asked, what the demographic splits were like or even how the questions were phrased, but the results given in the article state 18% favour Britain becoming a republic at the end of Elizabeth II's reign. That's disheartening for a republican like myself, but the news isn't all bad: At 89% the vast majority of us would like to see women and men treated equally in succession.

Interestingly 81% of respondants would like to see the rule banning catholics from the throne removed, which is something I argued in favour of merely moments ago, but now having read comments in this article I may be forced to reconsider my view there. Roman Catholics accept the Pope not only as the head of their religion, but as the infallible vicar of Christ on earth. He is also the head of the Vatican state, which could be seen as making Britain a subject of the Vatican. I would not like the Vatican to gain a greater influence on this country any more than I am happy with the Church of England's currently inflated sense of importance.

No, I think it's far better to say we abandon the idea of monarchy altogether. I'll accept a catholic president if the power still stays with the people. We can always get rid of her when she tries to outlaw condoms.

Monday 10 January 2011

A statement of intent

So this is Write Angry. That title may change. In fact, it almost certainly will. It may become a pun, using the word 'Write' in place of 'Right' somehow, though that is unlikely. The title is a statement of intent. I have an idea of what I'd like this blog to be but ideas grow or shift or die. When the intent changes, the title goes with it.

I say 'an idea', what I mean is 'two ideas'. I have the sensible, realistic idea which this introductory post aims to explain and I have the secret wishful idea where the blog is read by thousands, I become revered and respected and though I don't actually lead any revolutions, the heroes of successful - and peaceful - uprisings around the world cite me as inspiration.

Back in this world, I've kept a LiveJournal for eight years now and for five or six of those I updated frequently. There's a fair few posts I'm proud to have authored but there are also a great many more written because I was bored or because I hadn't updated in a while and felt I had to.

My little corner of LiveJournal is dying and that's sad for me to watch. Of the sixty-odd people whose journals I follow, only a handful still update and even fewer of them I care about reading. Even I update only once or twice a month these days. It's not so much that livejournal has gone out of fashion - though that's likely true as well - it's that livejournal served a purpose no longer needed by many of my friends there, and no longer needed by me.

Livejournal was an outlet when we felt stagnant. When we were heading nowhere, we headed there instead. It gave us a connection to other people in the same situation. At school they told us it didn't matter if we didn't know what we wanted to do in life. It would all work itself out. At college they were a little less optimistic and a little more disappointed in us for not having made our minds up yet. By the time we got to university it felt too late to be so directionless. I gained a BSc in Computing and still having no clear goals or ambitions, I started studying for a Master's degree. A couple of months into this course I hit my breaking point and dropped out, swearing off programming for life. It was so useful to have somewhere dozens of others wrote about how their grand plans hadn't worked out either.

We wrote about our failing lives and the fun we were having despite them. We filled the site with quizzes and memes, ideas for games and reviews of gigs. Whispered, friends-locked posts about secret crushes. Our favourite bands, our favourite films, our favourite lolcats. It was always personal, rarely political. We weren't outwardly disaffected or disinterested, we saved all that for the real world. I know this isn't true for everyone. It may not even be true for anyone else, but that's one of the things that LiveJournal was to me.

I don't feel the need to share that now. No, my life isn't sorted and I still want people to hear what I have to say but I think now I'd rather say things that might interest them, rather than writing about myself and expecting them to be interested anyway. I don't want a journal anymore, I want a voice.

There are subjects I have strong opinions on and want to write passionately about. There are subjects I consider important but have no strong opinion, and I hope debating them with myself (and hopefully with readers, eventually) will help foster passion. I want to write interesting pieces about the Separation of Church and State, about the British Monarchy, about Ethics, Sexuality, Art and Equality. I want to write detailed articles about science and pretend I know what I'm talking about. I want to write damning polemic against oppresive regimes and pretend I'm making a difference. I want to write often, I want to write well and I want to write angry.