Radical, Militant, Librarian

Couldn't help but enjoy this passage from a blog I read a little earlier today via LISNews....

Believing in access to information as a human right means fighting for our communities. Fighting to make sure the digital divide continues to shrink. Fighting for privacy for our users. Fighting against the entire concept of censorship and lately, fighting for libraries. So this is my call to arms. Librarians are revolutionaries, and society needs us. And no I don’t mean killing all the things with fire. True thought leaders, true revolutionaries, are willing to overthrow the system, or join it, if that’s what works best for their community.

- Amy Buckland, The talk I meant to give (Source: in forming thoughts)

It reminded me of this picture of a badge I came across a few years ago....

Here's a link to my previous post on Save Our Libraries Day and my personal battle for the library where I work (more news of which to come)....

Jocky's Blog: Save Our Libraries Day

Culture vulture

This is going to sound like the whining of a middle-class, good for nothing swine whose life is so sickeningly comfortable that his worst concerns are merely the pettiest inconveniences but....

Do you ever feel like you're drowning in too much culture?

That last sentence makes the bile in my stomach lurch upwards. Yet it's true, isn't it, the modern world provides such ease of access to the arts, both high and low, as to make it nigh on impossible to know where to train your attention first?

I've currently seven series worth of 'The Sopranos' to plough through on DVD, the complete 'Blackadder' box set sitting untouched on a shelf since my birthday in April, I've even got 6 episodes of HBO's 'The Pacific' piling up on my planner. I'm not even sure I think it's a particularly outstanding show! It's no wonder I felt a palpable sense of liberation when I recently deleted a whole host of 'Curb Your Enthusiam' episodes.

Meanwhile, practically all the music in the world is available at the click of a mouse, enticing me to check out the latest upcoming bands, spending far too much time listening to some terrible indie also-rans who, more often than not, demonstrate as much guile and inspiration as an episode of Eldorado! - Never has the adage 'all that glitters isn't gold' been more apposite.

Of course, I've neglected to mention the increasing pile of unread books under my bed; classic novels, political memoirs etc. I really want to read them but just struggle to find the time.

So why do it to myself? Why not just forget about it? Why should I let my life be dictated by a white box in the corner of my living room? Why does reading a book sometimes feel like a burden rather than a joy? Am I too often trying to appreciate other people's interpretation of life rather than making the most of my own?

Yes, it's clearly a quest for more and more knowledge but it's also a simple and shameful case of pompous one-upmanship. Ultimately, I want to be able to talk in an informed way about everything and to everyone.

If someone happens to comment on a film, I want to have seen it; if someone talks about the philosophies of Descartes - unlikely as that may be - I want to be able to give some kind of informed opinion; should an album I haven't heard appear in the top 10 lists come the end of the year, I want to know whether I missed out on an unexpected gem or whether it really is the pile of over-hyped dog turd I originally presumed it to be. It may be pretentious, arrogant, I don't know but there it is.

In the developed world the majority of us have it pretty easy. Food, heat and shelter are all pretty much a given for most of us and as a result we bother ourselves not with survival and, shamefully, not with acts of kindness, but rather with developing an 'identity'.

It's no great insight on my part but clearly we end up judging ourselves and each other, not by our deeds, but by how we dress, what we read, our likes and dislikes etc. and, of course, I'm a main offender. Here is my blog with its lists of what I'm reading, watching and listening displayed proudly to the left of this very text you're reading now. This is how I define myself.

I recently read a blog, the full-text of which can be read here, discussing the onset of eBook readers and whether or not they will ultimately put an end to printed publishing of books in the future. Fascinatingly, it suggests this is unlikely for 5 main reasons, the last of which is quoted below...

5) E-books can’t be used for interior design.

It may be all about vanity, but books — how we arrange them, the ones we display in our public rooms, the ones we don’t keep — say a lot about what we want the world to think about us. Probably more than any other object in our homes, books are our coats of arms, our ice breakers, our calling cards. Locked in the dungeon of your digital reader, nobody can hear them speak on your behalf.

We may never get round to consuming the content of all the books, DVD's, CD's etc. that come into our possession but you can bet we'll display them on a prominent shelf anyway. Culture has always been a kind of social currency but it can also be as debilitating as it is empowering.

I am become death

I just had to post this up. Since watching the clip for the first time this morning, I've become slightly obsessed with it. Whether it's the fuzzy black and white picture, his haunted face or the doom-laden tone of his voice, it just sends shivers down my spine...

Robert Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb, describes his reaction after witnessing the first controlled nuclear explosion

A Right Royal Confusion

I wonder how many people, like me, watched the Royal Wedding with a strange sense of unexpected conflict?

I was already going to write a blog on this confusing day of mixed emotion but then I found one that already did a pretty good job of conveying my point anyway.

Please click the link to read The Weblog of Norman Geras

I hope you agree it's an interesting point of view and I wonder how many Republicans, if they were truly being honest with themselves, might have felt something similar?

Let me make it clear that I am anti-monarchy, that prior to the event I had no sense of excitement or anticipation and that I was doing everything I could to avoid my true feelings spoiling everybody else's fun; and yet, and yet, when it came to the day, I sort of quite enjoyed it!

Surely only the most churlish could not appreciate the sense of national pride and unity that the event cultivated in people? Jonathan Freedland, in particular, conveys that sense in his Guardian column. If not that though, then at least accept a certain satisfaction in the sight of a grand-scale, globally televised event well run?

In a world of X-Factor crassness where sensationalism is the norm, it was humbling to see such understated poise from Kate and Wills in the middle of this vast media storm - and yes I do realise the use of the word 'understated' is somewhat bizarre given the pomp and vast array of polished brass on display.

It all leaves a person with my political mindset in somewhat of a fix. Is it possible to separate your politics from the undoubtedly happy event? And should one even try to do so?

Regardless, I know I still fundamentally disagree with privilege through birth right. As Johann Hari, who's rhetoric I find increasingly troublesome nonetheless rightly argues, this acceptance of the Royals as a national institution only helps to reinforce the class divide and trickles down into wider acceptance of power and privilege throughout the rest our society.

Morrissey, a long time hero of mine, perhaps puts it best in a statement recently posted on True-To-You.net

The message is clear: What you achieve in life means nothing compared to what you are born into.

So where, I ask myself, does this leave me? I suppose I'm grateful that the British can be proud of something. There are so few opportunities to feel a sense of national pride and I truly can understand why people would look to a Royal Wedding for that sensation. I just regret that it has to be a pride linked to such an inherently unjust institution.

I suppose the only other events with the potential to unify us in the same way are international football tournaments, and occasionally they do achieve just that, but it's been many years since we could honestly take a sense of pride in our football team either, whether it be their repeated underachievement in the game or their lifestyle choices out of it. That's not to mention the toe-curling sight of boozy football fans stiring up trouble every second summer.

I suppose I will always, inevitably, be out on a limb in this sense. Proud of my country but for very different reasons to those of the majority of my countrymen and women. I will just to have to retreat, allow the nation it's moment and confide in listening to my Dad's old Beatles records....

Tallinn it how it is

There's always a certain dread that fills my heart when I think about going on a stag do abroad. As much as I look forward to time away with good friends, resolutely devoted to drinking, I hate to think of myself as part of that awful, 'imperialistic' tradition of heading to the continent hell bent on the kind of hedonistic debauchery that often constitutes an episode of 'Ibiza Uncovered'.

I suppose it's my age but the moments I'll remember most fondly from my two days in Tallinn - the historic capital city of Estonia - will be far from archetypal.

Walking through the old town on a sunny Saturday morning was a delight, its domineering Gothic churches, medieval town houses and cobbled streets juxtaposed with Czarist era buildings that now form the equivalent of Estonia's Houses of Parliament.

Certainly too, a lunchtime trip to the Chicago bar, staffed by waitresses straight out of 80's sitcom 'Allo, Allo' (René Artois would never have been able to resist!) and also a wonderfully sophisticated lunch in our hotel restaurant, snaffled by chance, just before our flight back home to Blighty.

Wherever I travel in future years, I'm unlikely to come across anywhere so wonderfully idiosyncratic as the Depeche Mode Baar - a bar devoted entirely to Basildon's finest - playing a looping track of the band's thirty year career in a cosy cavern bedecked by signed memorabilia and flogging its own range of DM Baar merchandise.

I'm not even a Depeche Mode fan - or at least I wasn't until now - but the obsessive devotion required for such a ludicrous endeavour can't help but breed joyful appreciation in anyone who comes across it. Needless to say it acted as a welcome safe haven from which each day's drinking was ultimately to springboard, and when a song came on we actually knew? Well you can imagine the joie de vivre.

This isn't to say we were completely immune from the stereotypical and I was certainly vocal in insisting we spent Saturday afternoon camped out in O'Malley's Irish bar in front of screens, not only showing the Chelsea game, but both the Man Utd and Spurs matches simultaneously (as a married father of one, such an opportunity was too good to miss).

My defence, is that I always felt, wherever we laid our Tripodian headwear, we were never guilty of trying to impose our will on Tallinn.

When confronted by a karaoke bar full of loutish students insistent on their umpteenth rendition of Green Day's Basket Case that hour, we hastily retreated to the relative sanctuary of a nearby watering hole, where to our delight, there was a performer setting up with guitar and microphone. Understandably buoyed by our serendipitous discovery, we put in a familiar request. As the Big O's 'Pretty Woman' came warbling through the room, we knew it was game over. We were in that bar for 4 hours.

This local performer probably hadn't had such a receptive audience in years, especially judging by his slightly alarming top notes and penchant for a false start. This sweet chap, who apologised for every bum note, gave us an unexpected night to cherish. I'd like to think we gave him one too. When I offered him a drink between sets, I was delighted with his succinct response - "Gin!".

It was a remarkable weekend and one fully deserving of the 'stag'. There's no doubting the copious amounts of alcohol consumed but I'd like to think that even the most unforgiving local would have appreciated the camaraderie on display, not just between members of the group, but also between our group and the unique ambiance of Tallinn.

The truth is in there...somewhere

Getting to the real 'truth' of any matter debated in our newspapers, on TV or online, is an incredibly difficult task. Just watch any debate on Newsnight, Question Time or 10 O'Clock Live and you'll hear a number of seemingly valid viewpoints that leave you merely wondering who you should believe.

Take the ongoing debate over the UK's public spending cuts: According to the Government, without attempts to reduce our spending we are likely heading towards a Greek style economic meltdown.

Those on the left, alternatively argue that reduced spending and widespread cuts will likely send us heading towards an Irish style economic meltdown.

It's no wonder so many are turned off by politics. As a species, humans like debates to be black and white, narratives to feature clearly defined goodies and baddies. However, true to my contrary nature, it's the need to 'analyse' all this rhetoric which I'm finding fascinating.

So who is right on the whole economic debate? Quite frankly, I just don't know. The truth, most likely, lies somewhere in the middle of these two extremes.

In the recent UK Budget, George Osborne reduced his 2011 economic growth predictions from 2.1% to 1.7% but this hardly seems like a justification of the Labour naysayers, at least it's not enough of a revision to prove that the Government's course of cuts is definitely damaging recovery. It may be slowing the recovery of course but we'll probably never know one way or the other.

As much as I hate to say it, all the evidence suggests to me that, for a period at least, it probably would be advisable to reign in the spending. However, this doesn't necessarily mean we need to go about attacking the public sector in the manner in which the Coalition are currently.

Knee-jerk reactions hardly ever seem advisable in any walk of life, yet this is the impression one gets of the current policy, plus it's who the cuts affect, and the potential political agenda associated, that causes the greatest concern.

Of course, I, like so many others, haven't provided a valid alternative to cuts here (although raising taxes and larger levies on the banks are obvious alternative fund raising methods).

So where does this leave us with our quest? Often in the search for truth I resort to instinct, an instinct which I'm well aware can lead me down the garden path, so when faced with this web of uncertainty, it only emphasises the need to treat all commentary objectively.

It's an obvious truism but socialists, no matter how much I might admire their political leanings, can sometimes paint distorted pictures just as well as any elitist Tory.

In other words, trust no one. Least of all yourself.

Album Review: Let England Shake - PJ Harvey

*****

Sneak home and pray you'll never know/The hell where youth and laughter go - Siegfried Sassoon

Let England Shake certainly owes much to the war poets, conjuring as it does horrific tales of young men cast into the hellish nightmares of trench warfare.

However, whereas it would be all too easy for these 12 tracks to descend into cliché, in fact, and against the odds, PJ Harvey has crafted a work that not only sits as a tactful testament to the fallen but is a fitting tableau of humanity's multi-faceted struggle against self-destruction.

Throughout the album, the presence of nature is felt very strongly, the massacre and the killing inked indelibly onto the landscape, whether the stench of death "coming off the mounds of Bolton's Ridge" or the "Jagged mountains, jutting out, cracked like teeth in a rotten mouth."

On Battleship Hill, from which that last line is taken, is perhaps the most interesting track in this regard, not merely lamenting the cruel nature of man but also championing humanity's resolution (or is it begrudging war's futility?); eventually, despite the devastation, "The land returns to how it's always been."

It's also possible to draw parallels, not only with Iraq or even the current conflicts in the rest of the Middle East - "What if I take my problem to the United Nations", stolen from Eddie Cochrane on The Words That Maketh Murder - but with the global population's ongoing battle with Mother nature, whether that be climate change or other natural hazards beyond human influence.

Neither does Let England Shake deny the inherent romanticism of war, especially on All And Everyone, where the lines, "As we advancing/In the sun" ring out against a melodramatic musical backdrop that, to me, evokes images of the final scenes of British sitcom Blackadder Goes Forth.

It's evidence of Harvey's particular genius; not merely pedaling the truism that war is bad, but also empathising with man's plight and never assuming a moral high ground.

Of course, the album's other main theme is the resonance of England's chequered past. Harvey's relationship with her homeland is clearly troubled, at first appearing to romanticise the "battered books" and "fog rolling" on Last Living Rose but in the next breath clearly lamenting its "stinking alleys" and "drunken beatings".

This is revisited on the straightforwardly titled track England, the weight of a nation's failings leaving a 'bitter taste' but like 'roots from a vine', the connection with her homeland, for all its faults, is constant. "To you, England, I cling/Undaunted, never failing, love for you".

It's a tightrope that Harvey walks with Let England Shake but it's too her great credit that the subject matter is handled in such a delicate, ambivalent way as to truly replicate the complexities of war - the line between right and wrong being often blurred in extremis and our loyalties to each other and our country questioned at every turn.