"In the instructors training course, we were taught that the proper way to erase a chalk board is with vertical strokes, not horizontal strokes. Horizontal strokes may cause a woman's breasts to jiggle."
That, it seems, is an example of some sort of new-wave correct thinking. I’ve had enough of it. From now on, anyone who attempts to indoctrinate me on political correctness and tripe along the lines of the above, will get short shrift. I will deploy my vocabulary to ask them what is wrong with what I have said or written. Next comes why it is wrong after such time. Then there is asking for advice on how to make the point correctly. From there, it will be easy to start the whole cycle again. By the time I have finished, the bus, back to where the village idiot has gone missing, will have left. Anyway, I don’t see that direction of swipe will change booby swing. Either way, the shoulders will move or the shoulder-straps of the underpinning will let the mammaries move.
Wandering about looking at the blogs of others I come across very pretty photographs of sunsets – in the desert, over water or out of the kitchen window. So far, I have only seen one or two shots of sunrise. I went out with the dog about 4:30 this morning (I could not sleep – why should she?) and the dawn ‘came up like thunder out of China ‘cross the bay’. Real technicolour and great cloud effects.
Those within range of Duns should ready their ear-plugs as I am about to re-install the GPS navigation stuff in the new car. Actual installation will be easy but the fun will start when I go to check it out on a journey. It is another of those things that work perfectly until switched off. Then, devoid of power or connection with anything, it decides to re-configure itself so as to be totally bugg**ed next time it is switched on. Oh well – all bit of life’s rich pasture.
Saturday, 11 June 2005
Early doors for Saturday
This is from an American site. In normal circumstances, I do not hold the theory that what America does today, we do tomorrow but, with a small number of publishers behind a large number of papers, it could well go that way. I’ve pasted the following article just for those reluctant to follow links. This comes from here if you want to go back and get more of this guy’s stuff – well worth the effort.
Whither the competition between the mainstream media and the Internet? It sharpens. The big papers still rule the roost, but they haemorrhage readers and credibility, perhaps more than they know or understand. People move to the web, spend more time online, hold the usual media in decreasing regard. The bright and the young switch effortlessly.
Until recently the paper press, in a display of self-satisfied unalert lordliness, pretty much ignored the web. Imagination has never been newspapering’s strong suit. Ah, but we now have competing snobberies: The established press still looks uneasily down on the Web as mere bloggery. Meanwhile the web, brash and assertive and seeing the brass ring within reach, ignores the media, or perhaps more precisely fails to take them seriously while outmanoeuvring them. The trend line does not favour newspapers.
Why are print publications in trouble?
To start with, you can’t delete a newspaper. Suppose that in a fit of madness I bought the Washington Post—the daily or, worse yet, the Sunday edition. I would begin (and frequently did begin) by throwing out the bundles of advertising flyers. Then the sports pages. Then, probably, the business section, not because business bores me but because it is so badly done in the Post. Next, the Style pages would hit the trash, being cutesy, saccharine, badly written political correctness. Then the classifieds. Then the Metro section, since I don’t care about car crashes in Montgomery County or heart-warming but pointless things done by hopelessly correct welfare mothers.
I would end with the A section, in which I would read perhaps two stories and none of the columnists, who are tiresome, predictable, and correct. That’s a buck fifty (I think) for two stories, and then I have to carry the refuse to the dumpster. How much sense does that make?
And newspapers wonder why they lose circulation.
Now, it is important to distinguish between the paper-and-ink version and the online version. The Washington City Paper recently reported that the Post was losing 4,000 subscribers a month--subscribers, not readers: they were switching to the online version. The young, accustomed to the web, decreasingly subscribe at all. What are the economics of a readership tipping more and more to the web? We are about to find out.
Crucially, newspapers have lost control of the means of distribution. Before the web, you pretty much had to use the classified ads in the paper to sell your broken lawnmower, the personal ads to find someone to divorce, and the real-estate section to look for a burdensome mortgage. Now eBay is the national classifieds. Online dating services offer unlimited space for photos, text; online reality sites can carry far more information than a paper. These are important revenue streams. No revenue, no newspaper.
Nowadays papers face a new kind of competition. Before, you read your local paper or, at best, one of a very few. You had no choice. Today people bookmark papers across the globe. What does this do to ad revenue? I’m not going to buy lettuce on special as advertised in The Jerusalem Post.
But the greatest weakness of the American press is moral. Our media are relentlessly, grindingly, hermetically controlled or, as we say, politically correct. Everyone with the brains of an aspirin tablet is aware of it. Newspaper do not so much report the news as avoid it. The taboos are endless and rigid. What reporters know, they do not write; what they write, they do not believe. We all understand exactly what the media can say, can’t say, and will say. Sheer dishonesty rubs shoulders with poor content. For example, the coverage of the war in Iraq amounts to crafted acquiescence in lying. Why bother?
The media can’t change. They are too close to being part of the government they purport to cover, too steeped in the artificial egalitarianism of the newsroom, too afraid of each other, of advertisers, of being racist or sexist, too big and smug and ossified. They cannot report anything that might disturb blacks, women, homosexuals, Jews, Latinos, or mental defectives. Although the rosy-fingered dawn may now be penetrating the hitherto intractable darkness, too many journalists live in the past. Like IBM when it thought that the personal computer was a funny little typewriter, they stare into the tiger’s maw and think that it’s a closet. They would probably invest in slide rules.
How are these hobbled organs going to compete with the wild west of the web, with its limitless well-argued sites espousing or denouncing every imaginable point of view? Compete with people who document things that the majors can’t even talk about? A conceit of the usual media is that the web consists of inaccurate vanity sites run by teenage bloggers in garages. These exist. So do very researched sites by people who know their fields and are not afraid to talk about them. The difference is stark. The intelligent know it.Moreover, newspapers cannot specialize. The web can. This isn’t critical, but it is another of the countless nibbles of the web at the sagging flesh of newspapers. If you care about planetary exploration, for example, why read a newspaper when you can go to the sites of NASA, the European Space Agency, and Astrobiology magazine? Newspapers by deliberate policy provide dim-witted coverage. A reader invariably finds that he knows more than the reporter about anything that interests him. (Well, sometimes. Often reporters know a lot, but they have to write for the eighth grade. The effect is the same.)
It isn’t just information. Newspapers have to pander to the dull political center. Web sites don’t. If you want a libertarian view of things, there is LewRockwell.com; left-wing, Counterpunch.org; against the war, Antiwar.com. Many of these sites link to the established media, but only to stories that suit them. Thus the majors do the work, and the blog reaps the benefits.
Finally, websites are not the only competitors facing papers. There are list-serves. For example, I am interested in what is sometimes called human biodiversity, taboo in the media. Invariably the papers peddle the notion, obviously wrong as a matter of daily observation, that people and races are equally intelligent, the sexes identical in their capacities.
The field is fascinating, important, virtually illegal, and studied by exceedingly bright people. Their work is available on the net in the form of list-serves, often by invitation only. These amount to global discussions, by researchers across the whole earth, of what is actually known. Many such lists exist, dealing with everything from weird lapdogs to cryptography.
Newspapers? Why?
I’ve touched on what I think will be conflicting methods of dealing with any problems around the G8 thing. Let us hope this sort of lawlessness does not arise given the alleged state of preparation blogged by someone in a position to comment.
Whither the competition between the mainstream media and the Internet? It sharpens. The big papers still rule the roost, but they haemorrhage readers and credibility, perhaps more than they know or understand. People move to the web, spend more time online, hold the usual media in decreasing regard. The bright and the young switch effortlessly.
Until recently the paper press, in a display of self-satisfied unalert lordliness, pretty much ignored the web. Imagination has never been newspapering’s strong suit. Ah, but we now have competing snobberies: The established press still looks uneasily down on the Web as mere bloggery. Meanwhile the web, brash and assertive and seeing the brass ring within reach, ignores the media, or perhaps more precisely fails to take them seriously while outmanoeuvring them. The trend line does not favour newspapers.
Why are print publications in trouble?
To start with, you can’t delete a newspaper. Suppose that in a fit of madness I bought the Washington Post—the daily or, worse yet, the Sunday edition. I would begin (and frequently did begin) by throwing out the bundles of advertising flyers. Then the sports pages. Then, probably, the business section, not because business bores me but because it is so badly done in the Post. Next, the Style pages would hit the trash, being cutesy, saccharine, badly written political correctness. Then the classifieds. Then the Metro section, since I don’t care about car crashes in Montgomery County or heart-warming but pointless things done by hopelessly correct welfare mothers.
I would end with the A section, in which I would read perhaps two stories and none of the columnists, who are tiresome, predictable, and correct. That’s a buck fifty (I think) for two stories, and then I have to carry the refuse to the dumpster. How much sense does that make?
And newspapers wonder why they lose circulation.
Now, it is important to distinguish between the paper-and-ink version and the online version. The Washington City Paper recently reported that the Post was losing 4,000 subscribers a month--subscribers, not readers: they were switching to the online version. The young, accustomed to the web, decreasingly subscribe at all. What are the economics of a readership tipping more and more to the web? We are about to find out.
Crucially, newspapers have lost control of the means of distribution. Before the web, you pretty much had to use the classified ads in the paper to sell your broken lawnmower, the personal ads to find someone to divorce, and the real-estate section to look for a burdensome mortgage. Now eBay is the national classifieds. Online dating services offer unlimited space for photos, text; online reality sites can carry far more information than a paper. These are important revenue streams. No revenue, no newspaper.
Nowadays papers face a new kind of competition. Before, you read your local paper or, at best, one of a very few. You had no choice. Today people bookmark papers across the globe. What does this do to ad revenue? I’m not going to buy lettuce on special as advertised in The Jerusalem Post.
But the greatest weakness of the American press is moral. Our media are relentlessly, grindingly, hermetically controlled or, as we say, politically correct. Everyone with the brains of an aspirin tablet is aware of it. Newspaper do not so much report the news as avoid it. The taboos are endless and rigid. What reporters know, they do not write; what they write, they do not believe. We all understand exactly what the media can say, can’t say, and will say. Sheer dishonesty rubs shoulders with poor content. For example, the coverage of the war in Iraq amounts to crafted acquiescence in lying. Why bother?
The media can’t change. They are too close to being part of the government they purport to cover, too steeped in the artificial egalitarianism of the newsroom, too afraid of each other, of advertisers, of being racist or sexist, too big and smug and ossified. They cannot report anything that might disturb blacks, women, homosexuals, Jews, Latinos, or mental defectives. Although the rosy-fingered dawn may now be penetrating the hitherto intractable darkness, too many journalists live in the past. Like IBM when it thought that the personal computer was a funny little typewriter, they stare into the tiger’s maw and think that it’s a closet. They would probably invest in slide rules.
How are these hobbled organs going to compete with the wild west of the web, with its limitless well-argued sites espousing or denouncing every imaginable point of view? Compete with people who document things that the majors can’t even talk about? A conceit of the usual media is that the web consists of inaccurate vanity sites run by teenage bloggers in garages. These exist. So do very researched sites by people who know their fields and are not afraid to talk about them. The difference is stark. The intelligent know it.Moreover, newspapers cannot specialize. The web can. This isn’t critical, but it is another of the countless nibbles of the web at the sagging flesh of newspapers. If you care about planetary exploration, for example, why read a newspaper when you can go to the sites of NASA, the European Space Agency, and Astrobiology magazine? Newspapers by deliberate policy provide dim-witted coverage. A reader invariably finds that he knows more than the reporter about anything that interests him. (Well, sometimes. Often reporters know a lot, but they have to write for the eighth grade. The effect is the same.)
It isn’t just information. Newspapers have to pander to the dull political center. Web sites don’t. If you want a libertarian view of things, there is LewRockwell.com; left-wing, Counterpunch.org; against the war, Antiwar.com. Many of these sites link to the established media, but only to stories that suit them. Thus the majors do the work, and the blog reaps the benefits.
Finally, websites are not the only competitors facing papers. There are list-serves. For example, I am interested in what is sometimes called human biodiversity, taboo in the media. Invariably the papers peddle the notion, obviously wrong as a matter of daily observation, that people and races are equally intelligent, the sexes identical in their capacities.
The field is fascinating, important, virtually illegal, and studied by exceedingly bright people. Their work is available on the net in the form of list-serves, often by invitation only. These amount to global discussions, by researchers across the whole earth, of what is actually known. Many such lists exist, dealing with everything from weird lapdogs to cryptography.
Newspapers? Why?
I’ve touched on what I think will be conflicting methods of dealing with any problems around the G8 thing. Let us hope this sort of lawlessness does not arise given the alleged state of preparation blogged by someone in a position to comment.
The Group of Eight meeting comes to Scotland this year and of course will bring much protesting and sadly, violence. It brings with it much prestige for the Scottish Executive but a torrent time for our undermanned police forces.
We have trained a large percentage of our officers in oublic order, however, given the amount of police at the previous G8 summits - our number is far from fearsome. Apparently, some French and Italian delegates attended at our Force Training Centre whilst the training was being carried out and practically laughed at our techniques.
I'm not saying the protesting is wrong but my worry is for my fellow officers who will be in the thick of it with poor equipment and lacklustre 3 day training for what will turn out to be, and I believe this, an embarassment to the Scottish Police Forces. Moreover than that, I predict many serious injuries and incidents. We just can't cope with a protest of people on this magnitude.
We have trained a large percentage of our officers in oublic order, however, given the amount of police at the previous G8 summits - our number is far from fearsome. Apparently, some French and Italian delegates attended at our Force Training Centre whilst the training was being carried out and practically laughed at our techniques.
I'm not saying the protesting is wrong but my worry is for my fellow officers who will be in the thick of it with poor equipment and lacklustre 3 day training for what will turn out to be, and I believe this, an embarassment to the Scottish Police Forces. Moreover than that, I predict many serious injuries and incidents. We just can't cope with a protest of people on this magnitude.
Friday, 10 June 2005
Who is saying what?
Let's run a small game here - who is saying what to whom? Leave a comment but, sorry, no prizes except we all get to see how your mind works.
Right...that's the fun over for today. I don't know how many of you take the Daily Telegraph. Today's issue has a front page that could be said to very well show the sad old way this country is going. We have the dirty insinuations about two film stars, jail threat for being nasty to Satanists, advert killjoys, suggestions that the Tories need a gay leader (this Tory doesn't but it could be worse if he were a gay follower), paedophile returning to the scene of his crime unchallenged, guides for teenagers on oral and anal sex, ibuprofen causing higher risk of heart attacks ............ it is all there and it does not make for easy reading or a comfortable old age. It is not a case of the paper being in the wrong for what it reports but the fact that these items provide copy.
It used to be that if one wanted to read this sort of thing, we bought the News of the World where vicars were defrocked, reporters left as the lady of the night bared a shoulder or other slightly veiled references to hanky-panky maybe involving Scout masters. Now it is all in our face. I've no problem with such incidents being reported but would like the option of choosing a paper that prints the sort of thing I want to see. I used to like the Independant for its stance on royalty where they made no mention of their doings. Even the papers one would not expect to carry such revelations get in the act by expressing concern at the sort of thing that makes the news - this allows them to publish the nitty-gritty and yet seem censorious at the same time. I think I'll have to subscribe to Saga magazine but doubtless they will print details of aged vicars and ancient Scout masters and what Marie Lloyd may have got up to.
I'm beginning to get a bit fed up with this G8 stuff. This policeman's blog for June 6th makes interesting reading though. Actually, his whole blog makes interesting reading - must try and find out how he does it. What we need is some good copper's weather where the (Scottish) rain gets the protesters all wet and cold.
I have picked up a sense of blogging coming under scrutiny from the kill-joys. This may be due to the slimy politicians getting in on the act and using their meeja advisers to write self-publicising blogs. Journalists are also getting in on the act. These two sets of known, thin-skinned, trouble makers will start to bleat and restrict what is an outlet for comment and frustrations. In that context, this item may be interesting.
Thursday, 9 June 2005
Firearms fever
I own a very realistic-looking air pistol. It looks very much like a Smith & Wesson.
This is one of the sort of air weapons that the government is planning to ban. This is included in what they seem to see as a catch-all Act to deal with replica weapons and air weapons. Good idea. But, to what purpose? The banning of real hand guns following events at Dunblane was supposed to lead to the reduction in gun crime. Well, that didn't work did it? It may have reduced the rate of growth in shootings but we have no way of knowing this. Some replica weapons can be converted to fire live rounds - I cannot think why anyone would bother when a real firearm is so easily available to those who know where to look. If fully trained and specially selected SO19 officers can be fooled by a table leg wrapped in plastic, "weap0ns" are everywhere.
Mine was bought as I have always enjoyed shooting. There is just enough space in my attic to set up a reasonable range and the item has never been outside the house from the day the postman delivered it. I don't really care what happens to replicas and air weapons. My complaint is with the fuddled, knee-jerk, reaction of the government. Just 'banning' something will not do away with it. People drink and drive, exceed the speed limit, let their leylandi grow too high and legislation has not made much of an inroad.
My internet phone from Skype arrived yesterday and was duly installed, failed to work, removed, re-installed and then worked. I have three contacts at the moment and was able to speak to two of them OK. Mt daughter obviously has hers working through a tin of Fosters and a piece of string as the sound is rubbish - so bad it cannot be used. Advice has been given! I think this has a future.
The diet seems to be working. My experience is that size comes off in the order in which it went on so that bit of me between the nipples and belly-button seems to be going down nicely. No way will it ever be a six-pack area but I'll be happy if I can turn it from a 18 gallon barrel to a pipkin.
The G8 protest planning seems to be moving ahead. The dissenters have issued pages of legal advice to their members who will be there. I cannot imagine the Met taking a lot of notice of someone spouting a diatribe from this page. Once a riot sparks itself off, it all gets rather fun for those controlling - all those boring lectures and training days pay off in a short burst of "me or you sunshine".
This police officer has an interesting slant on many things but his latest effort ties in with what I've written above. Oh! and a nice word for my chaps.
This is one of the sort of air weapons that the government is planning to ban. This is included in what they seem to see as a catch-all Act to deal with replica weapons and air weapons. Good idea. But, to what purpose? The banning of real hand guns following events at Dunblane was supposed to lead to the reduction in gun crime. Well, that didn't work did it? It may have reduced the rate of growth in shootings but we have no way of knowing this. Some replica weapons can be converted to fire live rounds - I cannot think why anyone would bother when a real firearm is so easily available to those who know where to look. If fully trained and specially selected SO19 officers can be fooled by a table leg wrapped in plastic, "weap0ns" are everywhere.
Mine was bought as I have always enjoyed shooting. There is just enough space in my attic to set up a reasonable range and the item has never been outside the house from the day the postman delivered it. I don't really care what happens to replicas and air weapons. My complaint is with the fuddled, knee-jerk, reaction of the government. Just 'banning' something will not do away with it. People drink and drive, exceed the speed limit, let their leylandi grow too high and legislation has not made much of an inroad.
My internet phone from Skype arrived yesterday and was duly installed, failed to work, removed, re-installed and then worked. I have three contacts at the moment and was able to speak to two of them OK. Mt daughter obviously has hers working through a tin of Fosters and a piece of string as the sound is rubbish - so bad it cannot be used. Advice has been given! I think this has a future.
The diet seems to be working. My experience is that size comes off in the order in which it went on so that bit of me between the nipples and belly-button seems to be going down nicely. No way will it ever be a six-pack area but I'll be happy if I can turn it from a 18 gallon barrel to a pipkin.
The G8 protest planning seems to be moving ahead. The dissenters have issued pages of legal advice to their members who will be there. I cannot imagine the Met taking a lot of notice of someone spouting a diatribe from this page. Once a riot sparks itself off, it all gets rather fun for those controlling - all those boring lectures and training days pay off in a short burst of "me or you sunshine".
This police officer has an interesting slant on many things but his latest effort ties in with what I've written above. Oh! and a nice word for my chaps.
Wednesday, 8 June 2005
Terrible TV, brave woman.
I took the dog out the other night for her final walkies before going to bed. When we got back, the TV was still on and I looked at the screen whilst reaching for the remote to switch off. I thought it was a Dennis Nordon or Chris Tarrant thing where they take the mickey out of adverts or bits that have gone wrong in filming. Not so – I was watching this Celebrity Love Isle. I’m not going to put a link in as I feel it would be like putting LSD in a toddlers bottle. I could not believe what I was seeing, it was so puerile. I’ve done some checking around to see if I am the only sane person in UK and, thankfully, it seems that this show will never be Big Brother (as if one of them is not enough) The following seems to be a fair example of what I found. Again – no link as the site is a bit strong in places.
My life is collapsing. I used to enjoy a good book and maybe some intelligent conversation but now I find myself chatting to the missus about how likely it is that Lee Sharpe will bone Abi Titmuss on the telly tonight. Things really are bad, as I was the sort of aspiring, amost-middle-class snob that thought reality TV really was symptomatic of the cultural barbarians at the gates (etc).Is it the natural, wittily unscripted exchanges between (the admittedly lovely-to-look-at) Kelly Brook and that annoying Ulsterman? Is it my unhealthy interest in Abi's double-chin and my desire to smurf it repeatedly? Is it my fascination with Rebecca Loos' face, which looks like a drunken nutter has gone garratty on it with a shovel?It must certainly have something to do with the antics of some complete "X" list mong called Paul (whom I had never heard of) who behaves like an acid-fuelled chav with ten pints of the numbers on board let loose on Guildford high Street of a Saturday night.Celebrity Love Island is like a really strange but strangely comforting screensaver that floats by on the telly for half an hour every night. I think it's the acme of early 21st Century cultural achievement; our very own entertainment Weimar. And Abi's slight beergut makes me ridiculously excited.So, is anybody else enjoying this little guilty pleasure as much as I am? And, more importantly, which two of the slightly-rough-around-the-edges chicks in there would you like to see together with a litre of vaseline and a marrow?
I also came across a blog from a young woman who has discovered that she has extensive cancers. Cancer walked through my family some while ago. One of my problems was that I had no real experience of the condition and felt helpless in supporting and counselling my daughter. This would have helped immensely. A very brave woman despite the way she sometimes describes herself.
Did the man in the balloon get wet feet? Not whilst I was watching him.
My life is collapsing. I used to enjoy a good book and maybe some intelligent conversation but now I find myself chatting to the missus about how likely it is that Lee Sharpe will bone Abi Titmuss on the telly tonight. Things really are bad, as I was the sort of aspiring, amost-middle-class snob that thought reality TV really was symptomatic of the cultural barbarians at the gates (etc).Is it the natural, wittily unscripted exchanges between (the admittedly lovely-to-look-at) Kelly Brook and that annoying Ulsterman? Is it my unhealthy interest in Abi's double-chin and my desire to smurf it repeatedly? Is it my fascination with Rebecca Loos' face, which looks like a drunken nutter has gone garratty on it with a shovel?It must certainly have something to do with the antics of some complete "X" list mong called Paul (whom I had never heard of) who behaves like an acid-fuelled chav with ten pints of the numbers on board let loose on Guildford high Street of a Saturday night.Celebrity Love Island is like a really strange but strangely comforting screensaver that floats by on the telly for half an hour every night. I think it's the acme of early 21st Century cultural achievement; our very own entertainment Weimar. And Abi's slight beergut makes me ridiculously excited.So, is anybody else enjoying this little guilty pleasure as much as I am? And, more importantly, which two of the slightly-rough-around-the-edges chicks in there would you like to see together with a litre of vaseline and a marrow?
I also came across a blog from a young woman who has discovered that she has extensive cancers. Cancer walked through my family some while ago. One of my problems was that I had no real experience of the condition and felt helpless in supporting and counselling my daughter. This would have helped immensely. A very brave woman despite the way she sometimes describes herself.
Did the man in the balloon get wet feet? Not whilst I was watching him.
Tuesday, 7 June 2005
Blank day
Will he or won't he?
- Cannot think of anything worthy of noting.
- Cannot think of anything worthy of stealing from someone else
So, leave you with this; you can make bets whether he got his feet wet or not.
Actually, looking at this again and remembering what fun he seemed to be having, this would make a nice toy - if we win the Lottery (which we do not buy tickets for anyway)
Monday, 6 June 2005
Back home at last
My future comrades?
I have this to look forward to - depending on the Lottery of Death and I am left alone. Mind you, with my luck there will probably be a 20 year wait to get in!
Low life - bars and elsewhere
This is just so Far Side-typical that I had to include it here.
Only in America? A 3-year-old boy upset that his mother wouldn't let him use a crane vending machine to try to win a small stuffed animal took matters in his own hands. He climbed up the chute to get the prize himself.
Danielle Manges said she took her eyes off her son, James, for a moment to pick up a juice bottle he threw. When she looked up, he was in with the plush toys.
"I bent over to clean it and within two seconds he had climbed through the hole, into the chute and pushed the door shut so we couldn't get him out," she said. "He climbed up in the toys and was in there for a good hour."
Manges said James has been sick and sleeping odd hours so they went shopping about 3 a.m. Thursday at a Wal-Mart in the city some 15 miles east of South Bend. She let the boy play on some of the rides, but wouldn't give him money for the vending machine.
At first, Manges thought it was funny.
"He was playing with all the toys and hanging from the bar like a monkey," she said.
Manges said people leaving the store went back inside to buy disposable cameras to take photos of her son. She bought one herself.
She became upset, however, when Wal-Mart employees said they did not have a key to let James out. So Manges called the fire department for help.
"I expected his hand to be caught in the machine but it was his entire body in the machine," firefighter Anthony Coleman said. "He was swinging from a bar, jumping around. He was having a ball."
About 40 people watched as the firefighters removed the back of the machine and freed him.
James still came up empty handed.
"He definitely didn't get a toy after that," Manges said.
Dont know what a plush toy vending machine is but I reckon we should have lots of them over here. With steps so the little perishers can get in easily. With non-removable backs. I particularly like the idea that people shopping at 4 in the morning found time to take pictures.
If they are full?
Alternative scenario.
I doubt if there is a 20 year waiting list to join this lot. I reckon I could function in a wheel chair just fine.
Alienation.
There seems to be change in the air in the way that police and public relate to one another. The cases of the SO19 men and the man with the table leg, Huntley and other incidents such as the Pro-Hunt demo in Westminster have been perceived as less than effective service. Some of the problem is manifestly incorrect as in speed cameras where the police really have little involvement. Their apparent invisibility in residential areas and chav areas of towns is also not their fault but is a political consequence. The forthcoming G8 meeting will doubtless lead to more disaffection – ignorant or otherwise. There will be Met officers involved and, just as in the long-ago Miners Strike, they will deal with the crowd rather differently than a bobby from Duns.
I have also been thinking of the effects of political correctness. One does not now refer to a Police Force. The connotations of the word ‘Force’ are deemed offensive and it has been replaced by ‘Service’. Some of the other p.c. terms for p.c’s centre on the supposed offensiveness of the word ‘black’ (blackmail, black day etc.) Because of all this, I kept my eyes peeled as good old PC Dixon would say and came across this. It is American but, if anything that makes it somehow more honest and realistic. I believe that America is further along the road of dealing with this problem than we are. This item includes the alienation situation. Anyways, this is what I found:
"Hello Fred,
Let me start out by saying it's nice to have someone who is interested on an officer's point of view on race issues. I have always felt underrepresented, in law enforcement issues, as far as the media is concerned.
"For the past [several] years I have served as a patrol officer for the Prince George's County Police. Although I'm not exactly sure why it matters, I'm an African American officer. I am not a life long resident of Prince George's County. I grew up in the South, [a state]. You would think, coming from the South, I would be used to dealing with race issues. Not true. I am fortunate to have had parents that instilled in me the sense of right and wrong rather than black and white.
"I am not naive enough to suggest that there aren't racial problems within my department. The department's efforts in dealing with race relations among citizens and officers are a farce. I've heard more from commanders about what type of footwear is authorized than dealing with different cultures. The racial sensitivity classes that we attended were a waste of time.
"Don't get the impression that I am a disgruntled employee with an axe to grind. I am actually very proud of what I do and I work with some of the finest officers in the country; but things could be better. I conduct a great deal of traffic enforcement so I have a great deal of contact with the public. I can understand how a white officer feels when he is accused of racial profiling because I too am frequently accused of it. I am also accused of being a sell-out, Uncle Tom, and a few other choice phrases that I will spare you the pain of hearing.
"I have been a black man for all of my life, or at least as long as I can remember and yet my "blackness" is challenged. But, I have 20/20 vision and I can clearly see the real issue. It's not race. The real issue is individuals not wanting to face responsibility for their actions. I have been accused of doing ungodly things by individuals attempting to avoid facing up to their actions. It's unfortunate that the potency of legitimate injustices is diluted by lies and rhetoric.
"The department's reaction to the new anti-police climate is to stifle its officers with policies and procedures that don't do anyone any good. For example their latest policy is to prohibit officers from arresting traffic violators refusing to acknowledge receipt of the citation. The Maryland Transportation Article requires that an individual sign a receipt of a traffic violation as a promise to appear in court, not as an admission of guilt. If an individual doesn't sign the citation the officer cannot offer evidence that the subject before the court was the subject issued the violation, making even harder to obtain convictions in traffic court. We are the only agency in Maryland that I know of, to have this policy. Further more the Transportation Article clearly gives an officer the authority to make an arrest when an individual refuses to sign his name.
"I find that commanders and supervisors discourage proactive policing. I know officers who have actually been called into a commander's office and threatened to be transferred if another citizen called the district station and complained about getting a traffic ticket.
"I remember as rookie officer being told by a senior officer that I would learn a hard lesson about proactive policing. I thought he was crazy. There was once a time when I looked down upon those officers who didn't routinely make arrests or issue traffic citations. Now I join their ranks. I simply don't care anymore. [Note the foregoing sentence. It's what more and more cops are telling me. Fred] I'm not proud of it, but I can live with it. It's really a shame. It's hard to believe that I once thought I could make a difference. Because I believe the administration I work for to be petty and vindictive, I urge you to conceal my identity in any public reference to the letter. Thank you."
This comes from if anyone wants more.
I recently went off on one about personal decoration and people having bits of metal stuck on their eyeballs. Despite having written about it, the idea stuck with me and I started to wonder just how far some people would go. In my youth (sorry, there are not many other ways of saying that), tattoos were not so widespread as today. The idea of a skin-painted woman did not exist outside the freak-show of a fairground. My mind seems to suggest that the works of those days were more extensive, colourful and more appropriate than today. Whilst I was in Gibraltar, I saw a Royal Marine who had the classical Fox Hunt across his back with all the participants fully detailed save the fox. A fox brush was shown in the crack of his buttocks showing where the animal presumably had gone to ground. Something I did find on googling was what I consider quite barbarous. Regardless of the claimed benefits in one’s social life; I could never contemplate this sort of adornment. All very well being a Prince but what happens on those occasions when he becomes King Cobra? I’m a bit surprised that such a feature has not been introduced to Big Brother or Love Island. It would add to the speculation of will they or won’t they?
Two-tone man Darling has come up with what seems to me to be a suicide note for his party. As a class, British drivers (well, certainly the English element) are amongst the most bolshy in the world. They will put up with a lot but his daft proposals must surely be that straw on the camel's back. Apart from the technical side of it, it seems unenforceable. There will certainly be exemptions for visitors so if I am still ambling about the lanes at, say, 82, all I have to do is go and buy a car in Ireland and use it here. I would be a bit upset if the system recorded my car being parked overnight alongside the zimmer frame of some 86 year old hot pants pensioner in Kelso. It seems that the planning for this was tucked away in paragraph 9 million on page God knows where on their manifesto but certainly in Yes Minister speak rather than the detailed plans now available so soon after the election.
I have also been thinking of the effects of political correctness. One does not now refer to a Police Force. The connotations of the word ‘Force’ are deemed offensive and it has been replaced by ‘Service’. Some of the other p.c. terms for p.c’s centre on the supposed offensiveness of the word ‘black’ (blackmail, black day etc.) Because of all this, I kept my eyes peeled as good old PC Dixon would say and came across this. It is American but, if anything that makes it somehow more honest and realistic. I believe that America is further along the road of dealing with this problem than we are. This item includes the alienation situation. Anyways, this is what I found:
"Hello Fred,
Let me start out by saying it's nice to have someone who is interested on an officer's point of view on race issues. I have always felt underrepresented, in law enforcement issues, as far as the media is concerned.
"For the past [several] years I have served as a patrol officer for the Prince George's County Police. Although I'm not exactly sure why it matters, I'm an African American officer. I am not a life long resident of Prince George's County. I grew up in the South, [a state]. You would think, coming from the South, I would be used to dealing with race issues. Not true. I am fortunate to have had parents that instilled in me the sense of right and wrong rather than black and white.
"I am not naive enough to suggest that there aren't racial problems within my department. The department's efforts in dealing with race relations among citizens and officers are a farce. I've heard more from commanders about what type of footwear is authorized than dealing with different cultures. The racial sensitivity classes that we attended were a waste of time.
"Don't get the impression that I am a disgruntled employee with an axe to grind. I am actually very proud of what I do and I work with some of the finest officers in the country; but things could be better. I conduct a great deal of traffic enforcement so I have a great deal of contact with the public. I can understand how a white officer feels when he is accused of racial profiling because I too am frequently accused of it. I am also accused of being a sell-out, Uncle Tom, and a few other choice phrases that I will spare you the pain of hearing.
"I have been a black man for all of my life, or at least as long as I can remember and yet my "blackness" is challenged. But, I have 20/20 vision and I can clearly see the real issue. It's not race. The real issue is individuals not wanting to face responsibility for their actions. I have been accused of doing ungodly things by individuals attempting to avoid facing up to their actions. It's unfortunate that the potency of legitimate injustices is diluted by lies and rhetoric.
"The department's reaction to the new anti-police climate is to stifle its officers with policies and procedures that don't do anyone any good. For example their latest policy is to prohibit officers from arresting traffic violators refusing to acknowledge receipt of the citation. The Maryland Transportation Article requires that an individual sign a receipt of a traffic violation as a promise to appear in court, not as an admission of guilt. If an individual doesn't sign the citation the officer cannot offer evidence that the subject before the court was the subject issued the violation, making even harder to obtain convictions in traffic court. We are the only agency in Maryland that I know of, to have this policy. Further more the Transportation Article clearly gives an officer the authority to make an arrest when an individual refuses to sign his name.
"I find that commanders and supervisors discourage proactive policing. I know officers who have actually been called into a commander's office and threatened to be transferred if another citizen called the district station and complained about getting a traffic ticket.
"I remember as rookie officer being told by a senior officer that I would learn a hard lesson about proactive policing. I thought he was crazy. There was once a time when I looked down upon those officers who didn't routinely make arrests or issue traffic citations. Now I join their ranks. I simply don't care anymore. [Note the foregoing sentence. It's what more and more cops are telling me. Fred] I'm not proud of it, but I can live with it. It's really a shame. It's hard to believe that I once thought I could make a difference. Because I believe the administration I work for to be petty and vindictive, I urge you to conceal my identity in any public reference to the letter. Thank you."
This comes from if anyone wants more.
I recently went off on one about personal decoration and people having bits of metal stuck on their eyeballs. Despite having written about it, the idea stuck with me and I started to wonder just how far some people would go. In my youth (sorry, there are not many other ways of saying that), tattoos were not so widespread as today. The idea of a skin-painted woman did not exist outside the freak-show of a fairground. My mind seems to suggest that the works of those days were more extensive, colourful and more appropriate than today. Whilst I was in Gibraltar, I saw a Royal Marine who had the classical Fox Hunt across his back with all the participants fully detailed save the fox. A fox brush was shown in the crack of his buttocks showing where the animal presumably had gone to ground. Something I did find on googling was what I consider quite barbarous. Regardless of the claimed benefits in one’s social life; I could never contemplate this sort of adornment. All very well being a Prince but what happens on those occasions when he becomes King Cobra? I’m a bit surprised that such a feature has not been introduced to Big Brother or Love Island. It would add to the speculation of will they or won’t they?
Two-tone man Darling has come up with what seems to me to be a suicide note for his party. As a class, British drivers (well, certainly the English element) are amongst the most bolshy in the world. They will put up with a lot but his daft proposals must surely be that straw on the camel's back. Apart from the technical side of it, it seems unenforceable. There will certainly be exemptions for visitors so if I am still ambling about the lanes at, say, 82, all I have to do is go and buy a car in Ireland and use it here. I would be a bit upset if the system recorded my car being parked overnight alongside the zimmer frame of some 86 year old hot pants pensioner in Kelso. It seems that the planning for this was tucked away in paragraph 9 million on page God knows where on their manifesto but certainly in Yes Minister speak rather than the detailed plans now available so soon after the election.
Of course, if the Tory Party cannot get it's act together, it will not benefit from the duplicity of B Liar and his cohorts. This does not look like much of a start though
The Times reports that "a wide-ranging group of rising Conservative stars" will claim today that the party needs emergency treatment if it is to win power again. Conservative voters are getting older, less well educated and less aspirational, the group of two dozen MPs, MEPs and election candidates from across the party will say. "The Conservative Party’s position is more perilous than many people think, and we should not be misled by the number of seats won," a member of the group told the paper. The group, so far unnamed, met in secret to produce a pamphlet called "Direct Democracy: An Agenda for a New Model Party". It aims to create a policy debate alongside the process of choosing Michael Howard's successor.
In an interview in the Guardian, Tory industry spokesman David Willetts says the party must recognise that "there is more to life than economics" and offer a broader agenda.
The Times reports that "a wide-ranging group of rising Conservative stars" will claim today that the party needs emergency treatment if it is to win power again. Conservative voters are getting older, less well educated and less aspirational, the group of two dozen MPs, MEPs and election candidates from across the party will say. "The Conservative Party’s position is more perilous than many people think, and we should not be misled by the number of seats won," a member of the group told the paper. The group, so far unnamed, met in secret to produce a pamphlet called "Direct Democracy: An Agenda for a New Model Party". It aims to create a policy debate alongside the process of choosing Michael Howard's successor.
In an interview in the Guardian, Tory industry spokesman David Willetts says the party must recognise that "there is more to life than economics" and offer a broader agenda.
The recent Cabinet reshuffle got rid of TCH (That c*** Hoon) who was replaced by Ingram. Opinion amongst the rude and brutal was that this was a good selection and a welcome choice after the machinations of TCH. However, it now seems that he is really just a politician at heart anyway. His approach to the question of Scottish regiments seems to leave much to be desired. What is it the French mutter in their dark and despicable way - plus ca change c'est la meme chose or somesuch. (Libby will know!!)
Sunday, 5 June 2005
Lad-ees, please!!
Girls - get a room!
This is apparently MadDonna and Britney getting down and dirty at some awards ceremony in US of A. Whilst there are a lot of men who are always pleased to watch Isle of Lesbos stuff such as this, I find nothing attractive about it. My reason for giving it house room is that I find the double standards a bit strange. The singer whatsername Jackson attracted the wrath of the great American public when her mammary slipped out of the boy's- school cap but I do not recall anything about this display of tonsil tickling.
We had some nice weather today. Why the flip mention this I hear the masses ask. Yesterday gave us rain in monsoon style but only very locally. I was driving to get Norma and ran into a almost solid wall of rain when half-way there. Roads flooded in several places with some two or three really deep ones which required careful driving now I have a petrol engined car and not the diesel jobby. We obviously came in for our share during the night as the park was well flooded this morning. Sable likes that - she runs around in the water and then waits for the hot towels treatment when we get home.
Have started on preparations for the trip to Germany where we will witness #1 son getting married. Idea is to go by train rather than El Cheepo Airlines. I've got to get a new passport - first time I have not held a valid one since I was about 12 years of age. No idea of date yet but that will all fit in easily enough. They are having a new house built. By the description, it will be big enough for them to work from home - even if they go into ship-building.
Have signed up to get myself one of these Skype internet phones. We have OneTel subscription where we pay an all-in £15 or so monthly and make whatever calls we wish other than international or mobiles so I will not have a lot of use of the facility to call non-Skypers. Still, he who dies with the most toys, still dies. On that front, the idea to go into aquaria is still with me and I'm getting down to some serious research about the needs and wants.
It's the weekend - again
What about my super new clock? I think it is the knees of the bees. I had lusted after it since seeing it elsewhere but it took the skills of a better person than me (Gunga Din) to track it down and fix it onto my page. Lord bless her. I was not sure if I could use my dashboard in case she was there so I left 'yesterday's' entry until today.
Yesterday's exercise included Binning Wood . We had loads of time as we had just left Norma doing her Pokey Stitch class and she was not due to be picked up until late afternoon. The sun was out, the midges were, mostly, in and I felt OK. We did a bit of a ‘in-the-head’ circuit and managed to get back where we started with no real drama. Last time we tried this, we got lost and I was forced to resort to the trick of walking in a straight line till you come to something. In all, we were away from the car for about 2 hours. Annoying bit is that I have just measured where I think we went and it comes to five miles. Not at all good for two hours. Still, I enjoyed it, Sable very much enjoyed it and we did no harm to man or beast (or environment).
Listening to the radio comments of the French Non vote. A cheese-eating surrender-monkey came up with the concept of Faux ami. Seems that some words in the constitution that had been put in by us had a different meaning to the French. They suspected it was a B Liar thing and rejected it on those grounds. Trust that lot to come up with some fantasy. They won at Trafalgar and at Waterloo will be the next thing. Actually, if you go the Waterloo memorial, it is represented that way already.
I discovered a new side of Blog today. They support people who write manifesto. Difficult to explain but best way is to go and view one. The one I've linked is well worth reading as well as being an example of this further blog service.
Apparently, blogging is already passe. New kid on the block is vlogging. This is rather like a blog except that the end product comes via a digital video camera.
Yesterday's exercise included Binning Wood . We had loads of time as we had just left Norma doing her Pokey Stitch class and she was not due to be picked up until late afternoon. The sun was out, the midges were, mostly, in and I felt OK. We did a bit of a ‘in-the-head’ circuit and managed to get back where we started with no real drama. Last time we tried this, we got lost and I was forced to resort to the trick of walking in a straight line till you come to something. In all, we were away from the car for about 2 hours. Annoying bit is that I have just measured where I think we went and it comes to five miles. Not at all good for two hours. Still, I enjoyed it, Sable very much enjoyed it and we did no harm to man or beast (or environment).
Listening to the radio comments of the French Non vote. A cheese-eating surrender-monkey came up with the concept of Faux ami. Seems that some words in the constitution that had been put in by us had a different meaning to the French. They suspected it was a B Liar thing and rejected it on those grounds. Trust that lot to come up with some fantasy. They won at Trafalgar and at Waterloo will be the next thing. Actually, if you go the Waterloo memorial, it is represented that way already.
I discovered a new side of Blog today. They support people who write manifesto. Difficult to explain but best way is to go and view one. The one I've linked is well worth reading as well as being an example of this further blog service.
Apparently, blogging is already passe. New kid on the block is vlogging. This is rather like a blog except that the end product comes via a digital video camera.
Friday, 3 June 2005
Here's a great idea.
Gordon Brown has said that UK will dedicate itself to doing everything possible whilst we are in charge to help countries in Africa. Bill Deedes wrote a great article on why the place is in such a state.
I have the solution!!
We should re-colonise. Germany had places there along with France and Belgium. They also should re-colonise. The despots have had their run and filled coffers in Swiss banks. This 'turn back the clock' procedure would solve some of the unemployment problems in these old Colonial Master races. Any fears that we would return to exploiting the local inhabitants would be overcome by the latest advances in racial-diversity, political correctness and all the other new ideas as to how we should treat our fellow humans. And, it would save us the money recommended to write off debts as well as providing a safe haven for resigned politicians to hide until the heat died down and they could crawl back to the trough in England. Idiots like Galloway could be sent there like failed sons in the old days.
All in all - a damned good idea. Take the rest of the day off Wood!
I have the solution!!
We should re-colonise. Germany had places there along with France and Belgium. They also should re-colonise. The despots have had their run and filled coffers in Swiss banks. This 'turn back the clock' procedure would solve some of the unemployment problems in these old Colonial Master races. Any fears that we would return to exploiting the local inhabitants would be overcome by the latest advances in racial-diversity, political correctness and all the other new ideas as to how we should treat our fellow humans. And, it would save us the money recommended to write off debts as well as providing a safe haven for resigned politicians to hide until the heat died down and they could crawl back to the trough in England. Idiots like Galloway could be sent there like failed sons in the old days.
All in all - a damned good idea. Take the rest of the day off Wood!
Fair treatment
Sorry, but today I’m going to just cut and paste something from today’s Daily Telegraph. It concerns a teacher involved in sexual relations with one of her pupils. Identities, to my mind, are irrelevant. My reasons for re-publishing this lie in Utley’s point as to why there should be a difference in the way we treat male offenders as opposed to female wrongdoers in such cases. I investigated many cases where males were accused and just two where women were involved as the instigator but with just that exposure I formed the opinion as laid out below. My reasoning brain tells me that there must be quite a number of couples who find themselves in the same situation. They do not come to widespread public notice, or court, because few young males would complain about their ‘treatment’ – almost a victimless crime one might say. One does not kill the goose that lays the golden eggs!. Mr Utley says what I would have liked to say many years ago – I commend it to your attention and, hopefully, comments.
Tom Utley(Filed: 03/06/2005)
Nicola Prentice has already paid a very high price for seducing a pupil who attended her dancing classes. At only 25, she has lost her career. She has suffered the ignominy of having to sign the sex offenders' register, and the acute embarrassment of having her photograph and the story of her crime published in most of the newspapers (including this one). Now she may even be sent to prison.
Judge Michael Stokes QC, who will sentence Prentice later this month, told Nottingham Crown Court: "If this was a man, prison would be inevitable. Why should I treat a woman any differently? You do not send your 15-year-old son to school for him to be seduced by his dancing teacher. The law is there for a purpose."
He is right, of course, and we can all see the purpose of that law. As a teacher, Prentice was in a position of trust, and she abused that trust by flirting with the boy and luring him out of lessons for visits to the pub. True, she waited until he was 16 before she had sexual intercourse with him - and for most Britons, 16 is the legal age of consent (in Northern Ireland, it is 17). But the law makes separate provision for those in positions of trust, who are forbidden to have sex with anyone in their care who is under 18. This is the law of which Prentice fell foul, pleading guilty to two counts of abusing her position by mutual touching and sexual intercourse between September 2001, when she was 22 years old, and February 2002.
I am sure that Judge Stokes needs no advice from me on how to deal with Prentice. He also has the advantages of having heard all the evidence, and of having seen the defendant's demeanour in court, which I have not. But the judge posed a question from the bench, and all of us whose parliamentary representatives passed the law under which Prentice was charged are entitled to answer it. He asked why he should treat a woman any differently from a man. My own answer to that is: "Lots of reasons."
One is the very nature of the sexual act. I know that it is unfashionable to say so, but it remains a fact that penetration is something that a male does to a female - no matter which way up the couple may happen to be. It is also a biological fact that the male has to be keen on the project, at a very basic level, or else he is physically incapable of carrying it out. The same is not necessarily true of the female. If consensual sex can be said to have a "victim", it is very much easier to see the woman in that role (or the penetrated male, in the case of homosexual intercourse) than the participant who is doing the penetrating. It belittles abused women to pretend that the sort of abuse we are talking about, when it happens, can be as great for a man as it is for a woman.
There is plenty of evidence that the young male in the Prentice case, who cannot be named because of his age at the time the offences were committed (he is now 19), was very keen indeed on the idea of going to bed with his dancing teacher. His parents, we are told, allowed him to continue with his 19-month relationship because he threatened to commit suicide if they forbade him to see her any more. The affair only became public after she grew weary of his emotional demands and dumped him, whereupon he took his story to the newspapers.
A second, and connected, reason for treating a woman differently from a man is the question of shame. For most 16-year-old boys, there is no shame at all in bedding an older woman - particularly if she is only 22. On the contrary, it is a badge of pride. There were rumours at my school that a classmate of mine had bonked one of the matrons. We all looked up to him with something approaching reverence.
It is not quite the same with a girl - although I realise that the times they are a-changin', and that there are a lot of young girls nowadays who would be proud to boast of having slept with an older man. I can't help feeling, however, that there is still something shaming for a girl - much more shaming than for a boy, anyway - about going to bed with a teacher. The balance of power is quite different.
Another difference is the attitude of parents. I know that if I had a 16-year-old daughter, I would be spitting blood over any 22-year-old teacher who tried to seduce her. But I would not be nearly as angry if one of my teenage sons were to go to bed with a female teacher. I cannot speak for my wife, who may feel very differently, but at least a small, laddish part of me would think: "That's my boy! Good on yer, son." I would not go as far as Coleen Nolan, former singer with the Nolans, who announced on television the other day that she had promised her 16-year-old son a visit to a prostitute in Amsterdam if he passed his exams.
But I think it monstrously unjust that poor Nicola Prentice has been made to add her name to the list of perverts on the sex offenders' register. I see nothing remotely pervy about a 22-year-old girl who fancies a sexually mature 16-year-old boy.
I will enter one last plea in mitigation of Prentice's offence. In my view, somebody who teaches break-dancing and hip-hop, as she did, is simply not an authority-figure, in the way that doctors or geography teachers are. I know that I would not mind a bit if she were to try to teach my sons how to dance. I also know that they would not feel the slightest pupil-to-teacher obligation to go to bed with her, if they didn't fancy the idea.
My own feeling is that Prentice is a bad girl - a very bad girl indeed, if she really did drag her young lover off to the pub, when he should have been in class. But what a terrible waste of a prison cell to lock her up in it, when it could be used to keep a violent thug off the streets. It is cheeky of me, I realise, to offer a distinguished judge my unsolicited thoughts on an appropriate sentence for Prentice. But I put it to you, your Honour: hasn't she already suffered enough - or even a bit too much?
OK - now you have read that, has it changed in any way your thoughts about what should have happened in the situation involving the three very young mums in the same family as reported recently?
Tom Utley(Filed: 03/06/2005)
Nicola Prentice has already paid a very high price for seducing a pupil who attended her dancing classes. At only 25, she has lost her career. She has suffered the ignominy of having to sign the sex offenders' register, and the acute embarrassment of having her photograph and the story of her crime published in most of the newspapers (including this one). Now she may even be sent to prison.
Judge Michael Stokes QC, who will sentence Prentice later this month, told Nottingham Crown Court: "If this was a man, prison would be inevitable. Why should I treat a woman any differently? You do not send your 15-year-old son to school for him to be seduced by his dancing teacher. The law is there for a purpose."
He is right, of course, and we can all see the purpose of that law. As a teacher, Prentice was in a position of trust, and she abused that trust by flirting with the boy and luring him out of lessons for visits to the pub. True, she waited until he was 16 before she had sexual intercourse with him - and for most Britons, 16 is the legal age of consent (in Northern Ireland, it is 17). But the law makes separate provision for those in positions of trust, who are forbidden to have sex with anyone in their care who is under 18. This is the law of which Prentice fell foul, pleading guilty to two counts of abusing her position by mutual touching and sexual intercourse between September 2001, when she was 22 years old, and February 2002.
I am sure that Judge Stokes needs no advice from me on how to deal with Prentice. He also has the advantages of having heard all the evidence, and of having seen the defendant's demeanour in court, which I have not. But the judge posed a question from the bench, and all of us whose parliamentary representatives passed the law under which Prentice was charged are entitled to answer it. He asked why he should treat a woman any differently from a man. My own answer to that is: "Lots of reasons."
One is the very nature of the sexual act. I know that it is unfashionable to say so, but it remains a fact that penetration is something that a male does to a female - no matter which way up the couple may happen to be. It is also a biological fact that the male has to be keen on the project, at a very basic level, or else he is physically incapable of carrying it out. The same is not necessarily true of the female. If consensual sex can be said to have a "victim", it is very much easier to see the woman in that role (or the penetrated male, in the case of homosexual intercourse) than the participant who is doing the penetrating. It belittles abused women to pretend that the sort of abuse we are talking about, when it happens, can be as great for a man as it is for a woman.
There is plenty of evidence that the young male in the Prentice case, who cannot be named because of his age at the time the offences were committed (he is now 19), was very keen indeed on the idea of going to bed with his dancing teacher. His parents, we are told, allowed him to continue with his 19-month relationship because he threatened to commit suicide if they forbade him to see her any more. The affair only became public after she grew weary of his emotional demands and dumped him, whereupon he took his story to the newspapers.
A second, and connected, reason for treating a woman differently from a man is the question of shame. For most 16-year-old boys, there is no shame at all in bedding an older woman - particularly if she is only 22. On the contrary, it is a badge of pride. There were rumours at my school that a classmate of mine had bonked one of the matrons. We all looked up to him with something approaching reverence.
It is not quite the same with a girl - although I realise that the times they are a-changin', and that there are a lot of young girls nowadays who would be proud to boast of having slept with an older man. I can't help feeling, however, that there is still something shaming for a girl - much more shaming than for a boy, anyway - about going to bed with a teacher. The balance of power is quite different.
Another difference is the attitude of parents. I know that if I had a 16-year-old daughter, I would be spitting blood over any 22-year-old teacher who tried to seduce her. But I would not be nearly as angry if one of my teenage sons were to go to bed with a female teacher. I cannot speak for my wife, who may feel very differently, but at least a small, laddish part of me would think: "That's my boy! Good on yer, son." I would not go as far as Coleen Nolan, former singer with the Nolans, who announced on television the other day that she had promised her 16-year-old son a visit to a prostitute in Amsterdam if he passed his exams.
But I think it monstrously unjust that poor Nicola Prentice has been made to add her name to the list of perverts on the sex offenders' register. I see nothing remotely pervy about a 22-year-old girl who fancies a sexually mature 16-year-old boy.
I will enter one last plea in mitigation of Prentice's offence. In my view, somebody who teaches break-dancing and hip-hop, as she did, is simply not an authority-figure, in the way that doctors or geography teachers are. I know that I would not mind a bit if she were to try to teach my sons how to dance. I also know that they would not feel the slightest pupil-to-teacher obligation to go to bed with her, if they didn't fancy the idea.
My own feeling is that Prentice is a bad girl - a very bad girl indeed, if she really did drag her young lover off to the pub, when he should have been in class. But what a terrible waste of a prison cell to lock her up in it, when it could be used to keep a violent thug off the streets. It is cheeky of me, I realise, to offer a distinguished judge my unsolicited thoughts on an appropriate sentence for Prentice. But I put it to you, your Honour: hasn't she already suffered enough - or even a bit too much?
OK - now you have read that, has it changed in any way your thoughts about what should have happened in the situation involving the three very young mums in the same family as reported recently?
Thursday, 2 June 2005
Thursday - again
Again, the week has rushed past without catching me up in anything. In a way, I'm pleased about this as I feel quite happy sitting, dipping my toes, by the side of my imagined stream. I lack motivation - my get up and go has gone or maybe slipped down the back of the sofa. Perhaps this is a good thing - my addiction to adrenalin is not sated but perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps the fact that this does not worry me or motivate me to stir things up, proves I am finally getting into what retirement is all about. I never subscribed to colleagues theories that I would not find time in retirement to do all the things I wanted; it seems my suspicions on this were warranted. There are many things I could be doing but none, it appears, that I must be doing. I have the means, energy and, I suppose, ability to do anything that I take on board - I think - and it just seems that I lack any challenges. Perhaps this is not just adjusting to retirement - could it be that I am getting old?
I have never had any real idea what being old was. Army life insulates one from this - there are no old people in an organisation where almost everyone leaves the community when about 40 years of age. In my sphere of civilian life, retirement at 60 was quite usual and people dropped off the horizon when they left the company. Where I live, one seems to identify old people as those with some form or level of disability. Problems in walking, general mobility, sight, hearing - almost all the old people I know here have one or other of these difficulties. I cannot really identify with them in these respects. I accept that 72 is quite aged - 2 over God's ration - but see myself as worn and used up rather than old - whatever that means.
Oh well. Live with it. We seem to be moving at Captain Kirk's warp speed; by the time I have proof-read this it will be Friday.
I have never had any real idea what being old was. Army life insulates one from this - there are no old people in an organisation where almost everyone leaves the community when about 40 years of age. In my sphere of civilian life, retirement at 60 was quite usual and people dropped off the horizon when they left the company. Where I live, one seems to identify old people as those with some form or level of disability. Problems in walking, general mobility, sight, hearing - almost all the old people I know here have one or other of these difficulties. I cannot really identify with them in these respects. I accept that 72 is quite aged - 2 over God's ration - but see myself as worn and used up rather than old - whatever that means.
Oh well. Live with it. We seem to be moving at Captain Kirk's warp speed; by the time I have proof-read this it will be Friday.
Wednesday, 1 June 2005
Traffic planning.
Whilst this in no way refers to the situation in Edinburgh, it is not far wrong for London - even after Herr Livingstone's new congestion charges.
However, the powers that be in Scotland's major city felt that they too should have what they saw as the prestige of a congestion charge scheme. "Good enough for London, good enough for us". The good people of Edinburgh told them what to do with their revenue raising scheme. Now, in a fit of pique, new Edinburgh traffic routes and movement prohibitions have been introduced which, in most areas, have just added to delays and confusion. It takes real genius and application to turn a beautiful city, with wide roads, easily defined routes to and through the centre and relatively low traffic volumes, into an approximation of London that has narrow roads, no defined main routes in and out and massive traffic flow.
Midday walk today was at the picnic place. Weather overcast with low cloud. There was a constant weak drizzle - Ireland's 'soft weather' - and no wind. The river was attracting hordes of swallows and there were many dipper. I suppose the weather was good for midges and small flies. Up on the hills around us were what I think were curlews. I need to get close to birds to identify them properly but we held off - we being me and dog, as we did not want to scare nest-makers away. At one stage I got bombed by the swallows but could not see why this was in that particular area. The dippers were really cheeky, sometimes landing on rocks right alongside the dog. She can knock low-flying birds out of the air like a four-legged shotgun but seemed to have a truce with our friends at the riverside.
The parking space indicators on the car work really well although we sound like the corporate dust cart reversing. Sable is unfazed by the beeping noise which surprised me as I thought she would jump quivering into my lap the first time she heard them. So, another success story.
I got rid of the Mozilla browser Fire Fox as it seemed to be causing more trouble than enough. I don't know what caused it to turn nasty but it must have been something to do with one of the updates I downloaded for long-established programmes. The e-mail FireFox is still OK. I tried Opera as an alternative browser and found it quite good but I would not pay significant money for it. I'm back to the bog-standard BT Yahoo thing and that - touch wood - sems to be working satisfactorily. Looking at the advances in technology over the past few years, it surprises me that we cannot seem to get the basic, long introduced and well tried, applications to run on a 100$ 24/7 basis.
Tuesday, 31 May 2005
Hot dog.
This is something that I usually try to avoid - dressing animals up. They don't feel it but I think it demeaning. My general attitude is that, whilst it is OK to train a dog, getting it to do tricks is somehow wrong. I'm just a tree-hugger at heart, you see. All the reservations thrown away here 'cause it looks just soo funny. Being a sort of Boxer dog adds to the humour.
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