So that's it for this blog for this year - all that remains to say is "Happy New Year" and that this blog will return at some point next year (which, of course, effectively means next week). Until then, have a good 'un, one and all.

Doctor Who This Year

As I mentioned yesterday, this year saw perhaps the best season of Doctor Who since the show returned, and one of the best in the show’s history. Plus, after the relatively Who free 2009, 2010 has seen no fewer than fifteen episodes of adventure for the Doctor (not counting his brief sojurn into The Sarah-Jane Adventures). Nonetheless, as with any series, some episodes were clearly better than others. So let’s take a look, in reverse order of merit, what I made of this year in Who*:

15. Cold Blood
The Silurians are one of the best “monsters” in Doctor Who history, but you’d be forgiven for wondering why based on this story. They could have been any monster in this episode, and the utterly underwhelming, sub-Star Trek plot lacked the edgy realism of Doctor Who and the Silurians, the action of The Sea Devils and the sheer insanity of Warriors of the Deep. Plus, the death of Rory was just tacked on the end like an afterthought – something that utterly undermined the most dramatic moment of the whole story. Not just a missed opportunity, this one was a failure – and one that leaves me with the harsh conclusion that Chris Chibnall should not be allowed to write any more Doctor Who.

14. Victory of the Daleks
This episode failed – and yes, in the harsh light of day, it simply didn’t work – for two reasons. Firstly, there was just too much going on. It felt like a two part story forced into forty-five minutes, and as a result concepts that should have worked (like the subservient Daleks) were over and forgotten about almost as soon as they had been introduced. But the big problem was the fact that this story was meant to introduce the new Daleks – and given those Daleks were obese toys presented in bright primary colours, it was never going to work. Death to the new Daleks!

13. The Hungry Earth
There was a lot of atmosphere in this episode – especially as darkness fell and the church came under attack. But the twists of the episode were obvious (of course someone’s drilling up) and the Silurians were wasted. Not as much as they would be in the second part of this story, though, but I’ve already mentioned that…

12. The Vampires of Venice
This one was a bit like a bacon sandwich – fine while you’re consuming it, but always going to fade into insignificance when you’re eating a decent, full and well-prepared meal. As a standalone episode it worked well (despite the “flick the switch, save the world ending) and had some great lines. Ultimately, though, it was dwarfed by the bigger, and more distinctive, stories that surrounded it.

11. The Lodger
Like The Vampires of Venice, there was nothing wrong with this one, and it had moments that were both highly amusing and unsettling. But it ended up feeling like an also-ran among the more striking episodes of the season. However, I’d advise all fans to remember this one – I reckon the question of who was trying to build a TARDIS above that flat will be answered next year…

10. The Time of Angels
Well, it had some striking images – the Angel emerging from the TV screen – and a patented Moffat twist (the one-headed statues) but this one was ultimately too derivative to score any higher. It was clever, well-written and directed, and well-performed. But it pales into insignificance against the far superior – and more original - Blink. It also suffers a bit from padding syndrome – to a large extent, it was all about building up to the cliff-hanger, which is not uncommon in episodic shows – but equally not as rewarding as a first episode that can stand alone as more than just a cliff-hanger in waiting.

9. Flesh and Stone
(Just) better than the first episode in this story, this suffered a bit from being an elongated chase/escape from the Angels. Yet with Amy’s blindness, the moving Angel and the Doctor’s refusal to lie to the dying Amy there were flashes of inspiration bordering on genius. Furthermore, the fact that the crack in time played a key role in resolving the situation made it part of the story rather than just a story. Still no Blink, it did at least have the decency to be a good episode in its own right – no mean feat for the second instalment of a two-part story.

8. The Beast Below
Putting some slightly dodgy FX to one side (yes, Mr Space Whale, I’m talking about you), this was a neat little story with a strong narrative and some haunting images. It also managed to be topical, with a neat little critique of elections in Britain. Furthermore, it contained one of the season’s finest – and scariest – moments as the Eleventh Doctor raged against his companion and the whole human race. In a way, I almost wish we’d had a whole season of neat little stories like this one (the Doctor and Amy taking on injustice throughout the universe) before the overall story arc took over, and the Doctor hurtled towards his fate in the Pandorica.

7. The End of Time (Part Two)
Yes, it counts because yes, it was broadcast this year. On New Year’s Day, fact fans. And this episode stands as a shining example of what both worked and didn’t about the RTD years. The story was big on emotion, and more than capable of bringing a tear to the eye. Yet it was also full of padding and the ending – which was effectively about the Doctor stopping the Time Lords by shooting a machine – was a bit of a cop out. Special mention, though, must go to both Tennant and Cribbins – they never gave less than their very best, and were always absolutely convincing even when the script wasn’t.

6. Amy’s Choice
Despite the lacklustre explanation for the strange events of this one (space pollen? Please don’t) and the slightly tedious idea of alien possessed old fogies, this story worked well in part because of the banter, but also because of the Dream Lord – perhaps the best enemy faced by the Doctor in 2010. And the final revelation of who he was is one of those moments that was genuinely outstanding, particularly since it revealed so much about how the Doctor views himself. Clever, funny and unsettling – just what Doctor Who should be about.

5. The Pandorica Opens
Ok, so in retrospect a lot of this episode was padding – making up the runtime before we got to the cliff-hanger. But given the cliffhanger was one of the best – and bleakest – in the show’s history, I’m prepared to be quite forgiving. Particularly since a large section of that padding was taken up with the scariest presentation of the Cybermen seen since the show returned.

4. A Christmas Carol
Yes, it is light-hearted and short on scares. But it also has some very dark undertones. And it manages to be Christmassy. Which is the point – it was designed for viewing on Christmas Day. As such it absolutely succeeds, in my not at all humble opinion.

3. Vincent and the Doctor
People will talk about this one for many years, because it is Doctor Who at its best. It took a serious concept, and told a story about it in a sensitive yet entertaining way. Who’d have thought that what some dismissively call a kid’s TV show would deal with depression in such a compassionate and thoughtful way? Yet, that’s what Who can do. This episode may have been atypical in some respects, but throughout its history, Doctor Who has dealt with serious issues effectively, and often been at its best when it does so.

2. The Big Bang
Ok, it confused some and disappointed others, but for me the season finale was a great piece of well-plotted entertainment. Furthermore, it had one of those punch-the-air style moments that Doctor Who rarely has – when Amy remembered, and call the Doctor back into existence with the words he’d planted in her mind as a child – “something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue". Great stuff – and proof positive that the season finale can do a great deal with not a lot. No invading armies here – just a stone Dalek and a burning TARDIS managed to bring real, and often affecting, drama to Saturday night TV.

1. The Eleventh Hour
A magnificent statement of intent with a breath-taking central performance from Smith, the first episode of the new season showed not only that the series was in safe hands, but those hands were going to guide the show in more exciting ways than ever before. In years to come, The Eleventh Hour will be remembered as one of the all-time greats. Simply superb.

*2 episode stories are counted as separate stories, because they often feel very different in tone.

Best TV Of The Year

While I’ve found little to amuse me this year in music and movies, the TV has been something else this year. There have been a number of gems hitting our screens.

It is true that some shows are perhaps getting tired or have just plain run out of ideas – comedies in particular. The IT Crowd is rapidly making its once very engaging lead characters into catchphrase spouting clichés, which is a shame as it has previously been one of the most amusing of C4’s sitcoms. Likewise, Peep Show has clearly seen better days – a recent episode saw the non-dynamic duo locked in a house for the best part of an episode. Take away the profanity and the obsession with body fluids and you have an episode of Last of the Summer Wine, rather than an edgy modern comedy. Pete versus Life ended up doing Peep Show more effectively than Peep Show itself has managed this year. Speaking of body fluids, just how many episodes of The Inbetweeners can feature a main character urinating or spewing? Sure, it remains funny, but it is getting increasingly samey.

Yet there have been some great TV programmes this year. Misfits is everything The Inbetweeners wants to be, but often isn’t – with added superpowers. It offers intricate story-telling, laugh-out-loud yet always convincing dialogue and manages to consistently make the most extraordinary and unlikely plot points into credible storylines. What other series could have a menacing serial killer offing main characters through partially digested dairy products – while at the same time offering such a simple way of dealing with the monster? If this show’s writer and creator is not on the list of potential writers for Doctor Who then he bloody well should be.

Speaking of Doctor Who (well, it was bound to come up, wasn’t it?) it is worth pausing to note the gamble with the show that was taken at the beginning of the year. The man who brought the show back from relative security departed as both head writers and show-runner, while the actor who had become synonymous with the role also left, to be replaced by a young actor with foppish hair. It could so easily have gone badly wrong. But it didn’t. Smith is a natural as the Doctor – he offers a brilliant, original take on the role that arguably hasn’t been seen since the Baker era (Tom, of course, not Colin). And Moffat has revamped the way in which Doctor Who stories are told – this year’s season was one long story to a large extent, with further plot strands still to be explored next year. Quite simply, this was not only the best season of Doctor Who since the show returned, but one of the best also of all time.

And what of the individual episodes? Well, I’ll be ranking those tomorrow, so stayed tuned.

Another fantasy programme also had a storming year. Ashes to Ashes ended in the summer, and in doing so not only ended its own story, but also comprehensively ended the story begun in Life On Mars. The season as a whole deserves to praise for taking what was, at first, a lighter version of its predecessor and making it much, much darker. It also showed a determination to deal with the strange logic of the show in a credible and convincing way, and in doing so led to an absolutely fantastic final episode. It was always going to be difficult to end a series like this, but the producers and writers did so not only with considerable aplomb, but they made it look easy. In fact, they made it look as if they knew how this story would end all along. Ashes to Ashes final episode is quite simply one of the best finales I have ever seen.

Let’s hope that next year also sees some fine TV – with both Doctor Who and Misfits returning, I feel quite hopeful...

Movies Of The Year

Thinking about this year at the movies, I’m struck by just how uninspiring it has been. There has been very little to actually coax me from the comfort of my sofa into the cinemas. Part of the problem is the prevalence of remakes and sequels – while I’m interested in such films as Iron Man 2 and Paranormal Activity 2, I’m not interested enough to schlep all the way to the cinema, queue for aeons and then pay cinema prices to see them when I could pay a fraction of that and watch them via LoveFilm in the comfort of my own home. The same goes for something like the movie version of The A-Team. There is also the ongoing problem of the length of modern movies – there seems to be a temptation (which I blame completely on the tedious Lord of the Rings franchise) to try to make a movie seem epic by giving it an epic run time. I mean, does anyone really believe that Shutter Island needed to be as long as it was?

Yet two films do stand out to me this year, and while they are very different in content, style, budget and profile, they have one thing in common – intelligence. The first is Christopher Nolan’s Inception - a movie that takes larking about in people’s dreams and makes it into compelling viewing. There are two main reasons why this movie works – firstly, it is visually stunning. As a director, Nolan shuns CGI as much as possible, and we can see in this movie that really paying off. Nolan messes with reality, but the effects he uses to achieve this are given a more tangible quality by not being simply done on a computer. Yet despite being an effects heavy fantasy movie, Inception deals with complicated themes in a subtle, yet clear, way. Freud is a clear spectre in the film, and it is as much about psychoanalysis and the burying of painful emotions as it is simply about dreams. Crucially, it makes you think about dreams and how we respond to them. And that’s no mean feat for a film designed to be a blockbuster.

The other film that really stands out to me this year was Precious. Unlike Inception, this picture is very much based in reality – and the grim reality of abject poverty in America. Crucially, the film doesn’t pull any punches – it shows abuse (including a terrible example involving a newborn baby), welfare dependency, incest and discrimination in such a way that demonstrates the drama without slipping into melodrama. Parts of the film are very difficult to watch – but, then again, they have to be. To fully demonstrate the reality of Precious’s world, there has to be a realistic depiction of her nightmarish parents, the general debilitating impact on people of abject poverty and the inability of those tasked to help people like Precious to do so effectively. There are no easy solutions offered here, and as a result the film is innately political in away that many overtly political films are not.

So the two films that really made an impression on me are very different, yet they engage with the viewer’s intellect, and as such are worth actually going to the cinema for. And this is something that, in the era of 3D and endless remakes, the best filmmakers should bear in mind – if you want to make a film that genuinely stands out from the crowd, then you should try to make it intelligent.

Album of the Year

The album of the year has to be The Suburbs by Arcade Fire. There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, it is an exciting, compelling album containing striking, memorable songs done in an eclectic style. It even has a couple of bona fide classics on it – songs like “We Used To Wait” deserve not only to be widely heard hits but have the potential to join the ranks of the truly great rock/indie songs of all time. Despite their increasing fame, profile and (presumably) wealth, the Arcade Fire are not only still producing albums that are worth hearing, but positively demand to be heard. Not just highly recommended – it’s essential listening.

But there is another reason why the Arcade Fire had the album of the year this year – basically, I just haven’t kept up to date with new releases beyond the bands (such as the Manics and their largely phoned in offering) I already like. Consequently, I don’t have much to compare The Suburbs with. So it is over to you, diligent reader, to help me out – what were your albums of the year, and what should I have listened to?

Gordon Brown: Loser, Not Hero, Of The Year

Been a while since I last did a good fisk. This article is practically begging for it - a piece of pap trying to make Gordon Brown - who this year, more than any other, made himself clearly stand out as a total loser - into a hero. Let's go take a look:

Unlike the current leader of the Labour party, I cannot imagine Gordon Brown being a tolerable person to make a snowman with.

I don't want to make a snowman with any party leader of any party ever. If I did, then both Miliband Minor and Brown the Cunt would be pretty low down on the list. But sorry, what is the point about this idea of making snowmen with party leaders? Is there one?

He would fuss about the precise placement of the carrot nose and pebble eyes, possibly employing a ruler and spirit-level, and fret that this was not an appropriate use of our intellectual resources.

Still struggling to see the point of this snowman shit. But anwyay, Brown'd probably chuck a mobile phone at your face for not agreeing with him that snowman should look exactly like him (which is like a fatter Richard Nixon, fact fans).

But, and herein lies the rub, I have never felt the need to imagine the potential for cold weather fun with the head of the party I'm supporting, simply to feel confident in their potential to lead it to power.

Then why the fuck mention the whole snowman thing? Jesus. Try reading back your own article next time. Just so it makes some sort of fucking sense, as opposed to just being padded out fawning and bullshit.

Brown, it has often been observed, was born into the wrong era. Paralysingly ill-suited to the territory of 24/7 performative politics, his stock would have been valued considerably higher in the olden days when moral compass, staunch resolve and attention to detail were as important as the ability to crack a genuine smile on YouTube is now. But Gordon Brown, as in so many other areas, had no such luck.

What moral compass, staunch resolve and attention to detail? None of this was shown in Brown's failed time in Number 10. He was a shallow opportunist, determined to cling to his unelected and undeserved position. His time in power is summed up by his odious slogan of "British Jobs For British Workers". He would say anything to stay in power; the problem (for him) was that he was shit at saying it.

He did not, of course, lead his party to power in May, but down to the doldrums of defeat which may well last much longer than this country deserves. And yet, though his inability to capture public confidence was personal as much as it was circumstantial, it is his dignity in defeat that makes him my hero of 2010. His exit from Downing Street was touchingly humble. No amount of nippy accounts of "22 days in May" can deflect from the power of Guardian photographer Martin Argles's shots of Brown with his family in their final moments at Number 10.

I'd rather read a million accounts of those 22 days in May than gawp at a photo of Brown strutting down the street like he is some sort of genuinely historical figure. After all, those 22 days - for better or for worse - gave us our incumbent government. Whereas that shot was of a man leaving a building he should have vacated days before. And he appears, for all the world, to be dragging his family with him.

Returning with them to Fife, he has embraced life below the radar as a constituency MP, surfacing only recently to offer his characteristically comprehensive thoughts on the potential for global financial restructuring in his book Beyond the Crash, serialised here.

Oh, please. Brown went from being Prime Minister to being an MP who could not be fucked to work for the constituents who elected him. He did nothing after being turfed out of Downing Street except write his book which has, to a large extent, been a failure - a dead weight on those bookstores that elected to stock it.

When he denounced Tory cuts as "immoral" and "economic vandalism" in an article for the Mirror last Saturday, he only echoed the sentiments of the thousands of protesters who had taken to the high streets that day to express their outrage at the national plague of tax avoidance.

Thousands of protestors in a country of 60 million? What a man of the people Gordon Brown must be. Particularly since he was just rehashing the muted attack lines of his replacement as Labour leader.

In his passionate belief in international co-operation to temper national insecurity, we see beyond Brown the caricature to Brown the believer.

Never seen this belief in international cooperation. What I've seen is Gordon Brown the believer in his own (undeserved) entitlement to power.

The country may not have wanted him as a fatally flawed leader, but it needs him now as a quiet economic hero.

In what way is the man who nearly bankrupted this country - and forced these cuts on the coalition - a fucking economic hero? And in what way is he quiet - this man who once blithely boasted that he had ended boom and bust? Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ, the last thing we need is to hear more from Gordon Brown. His time in power was an absolute fucking disaster, and his incompetence and malign policies will hurt this country for many years to come.

Doctor Who - A Christmas Carol

It will hardly come as a surprise to regular readers that, ever since the Sycroax tried to invade earth on Christmas Day six years ago while the recently regenerated Doctor lounged around in another man’s bedclothes, a highlight of my Christmas Day has been the Doctor Who Christmas special. And let’s just say that yesterday’s edition did not disappoint.

Now, it is a bit of a cliché for shows to do, as their Christmas Special, a version of A Christmas Carol. And it often goes wrong, because most shows are not suited to retelling the story of Scrooge at Christmas. Fortunately, Moffat seemed to understand this, and gave us a story that used the Dickens tale as a loose template to tell a similar, yet in some respects, a startling different tale. After all, there were no flying sharks in the original A Christmas Carol.

Some people might argue that Christmas Day’s episode was perhaps a little too light-hearted – after all, there were only the briefest scenes of mild peril. Yet this sort of analysis misses the point in two different ways. Firstly, this was broadcast at prime time on Christmas Day. You can’t make it too dark – this has to be for all the family at one of the most relaxing times of year (post Christmas lunch on a day of general indolence). Furthermore, there some very dark undertones to the story. At its heart was a tale of desperately doomed romance and the trauma of an abusive childhood. Karzan Sardick was not just a one-dimensional villain – he was the product of a monster of a father and the bitter realisation that he could only spend one final day with the love of his life.

The story also had nice little twists to keep the viewer engaged. My personal favourite is when the Doctor was being the Ghost of Christmas Future – yes, it was not a great stretch to guess that he was being so to the young Sardick rather than the older version, but it was a nice, but surprisingly unobtrusive, example of intricate Moffat plotting. And, of course, the centre of the story was Matt Smith’s mercurial, complicated Doctor. He’s the man who claims to know nothing about kissing the girl, but ends up engaged to Marilyn Monroe. He is capable of moments of deep empathy, but also often gets so carried away in the moment that he misses what is obvious. And he is unpredictable, energetic and often compelling alien – meaning he takes centre stage in any scene he wanders into.

I’m sure that there will be some people who bellyache about the fact that the Doctor changes history within the story. To this I can only say that such people are missing the point of Doctor Who - he constantly changes history – indeed, that’s the reason why he first became a renegade among his own people. The point is that he cannot change a fixed point in time; clearly, the life of Karzan Sardick was no such fixed point. Besides, as Amy pointed out, people can be rewritten – Sardick went from being the cold monster created by his awful father to the old man bitter about the fate of his love to the old man who made peace with his life, and took the opportunity to spend that final day – Christmas Day – with Abigail. The moment when Abigail told him that he had, given his age, probably waited for too long was simple and touching; it was also the moment that Sardick accepted his fate, and in doing so became a good man.

Any gripes? Well, we could have had longer before the shark became tamed; a bit more of a threat for the majority of the episode would have been good. And this did feel like a companion–lite episode: the very fact that Mr and Mrs Pond were dressed (albeit in their most memorable) costumes from last season couldn’t help (despite the nudge-nudge, wink-wink explanation for why they were dressed like that) but add to the feeling that they were tacked onto the episode. They seemed to exist just to add a further reason to why the Doctor had to save the thousands of people trapped on a crashing shuttle. As if he wouldn't anyway...

But these are minor points. Moffat and his team delivered a wonderful Christmas romp with melancholic overtones. As such, it was perfect viewing for Christmas Day

Merry Christmas, Everybody

In part to aggravate Jackart, and in part to say "Merry Christmas", here's Slade's Christmas anthem (it's an anthem in that it is overplayed at Christmas). Enjoy.

Rather like the Queen's Christmas Address, this is a pre-prepared announcement - I'm not actually blogging on Christmas Day as I have better things to do; such as binge-eating, binge-drinking and the Doctor Who Christmas Special. So if you're reading this on Christmas Day, I urge you to stop and go do something fun. Because Christmas really shouldn't be about blogs like this one.

Anyway, laters all. Have a grand ol' Christmas Day.

Fairytale of New York - The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl

Probably the best Christmas song ever, and one that manages to be a good song in its own right - a colossal rarity for a festive treat. Enjoy.

I Believe In Father Christmas - Greg Lake

The curse of restricted playback is with us again, but you can enjoy this (slightly angry and bitter in places) Christmas tune over at YouTube. There'll be another one along this afternoon - and I think that one can actually be embedded. Which is nice.

Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)

In which the Ramones create a Christmas song that sounds a lot like the rest of their songs. But with a hint of sleigh bells and the use of the word Christmas. Magic.

It's Clichéd To Be Cynical At Christmas - Half Man Half Biscuit

A little bit of monotonous indie festive whining this morning - but, amazingly, a video I can actually embed. Woo-fucking-hoo. Anyway, enjoy the wonderfully named Half Man Half Biscuit:



BTW, they'll be a second festive treat for you all this afternoon! I know, I know, I'm too kind - but it is Christmas.

James Dean Bradfield - Last Christmas

Today's festive treat is James Dean Bradfield (of Manic Street Preachers fame, natch) performing Wham's "Last Christmas". However, to enjoy it, you'll have to head over to the Tube of You.

Cable V Murdoch

Yet more proof that what I, and other wise heads such as myself, have been saying for ages - namely, that Vince Cable is an idiot. Why else would you put yourself in a position where you have effectively declared war on Rupert Murdoch? I mean, it is the political equivalent of walking up to the scary looking guy in the pub - the one with bruised knuckles, wide angry eyes, with the physique of a shaved ape and sporting a "you are a cunt" tattoo on his forehead - and asking him to step outside. He's going to fuck you up without evening breaking a sweat. You're going to be picking bits of your shattered teeth from your shattered face while he goes back to his pint.

Maybe Cable is self-destructing a bit - I don't know. But whatever he's thinking and trying to achieve, taking on possibly the most powerful media tycoon in the world means his days in frontline politics are coming to an end. It is just a question of how quickly...

The Wedding Present - Step Into Christmas

For today's Christmas song, you'll have to head over to YouTube as, in what I think may well become a theme for the week, embedding has been disabled by request. Still, enjoy an indie version of a not absolutely terrible Christmas tune.

The Top 10 Worst Christmas Songs Of All Time

'Tis the season for recycled pop pap to be pumped by radio stations and into stores across the nation. Yes, we get to hear dreadful dirges that would be rightly ignored at all other times of the year because they happen to have festive lyrics and sleigh-bells in the background. Sure, there are some good Christmas themed songs, but they are very much the exception rather than the rule. And in case you were wondering, this is the list of what I reckon to be the very worst - the steaming turds at the very summit of a big ol' pile of crap. In reverse order:

10 Mistletoe and Wine

There is an increasing number of people who want to revise our opinions of the eighties. Sure, the fashion was loud and the music was a bit bombastic on occasion. But actually there was a lot of joy that can be taken from the eighties - even its music.

This song is a standing rebuke to those people. It isn't so much that it is a bad song (although it is - both smug, calculated and an affront to your ears) but the fact that it was so popular. The best-selling single of 1988 - fuck me, that must have been an appalling year for music.

9 Christmas Time (Don't Let the Bells End)

The Darkness were a curious band. Whoever thought that making the sort of pomp rock that even Queen at their height would have avoided while wearing spandex leotards was a long-term career option was hopelessly naive. Nonetheless, they were amusing. For about three minutes. And this song is when the joke ceased to be funny.

It is all very well vying to be Christmas number one, but if you want to actually achieve that with a Christmas song, then it is probably best not to do so by writing Scrooge-like lyrics that carp on about an unpleasant Christmas. Particularly not if your "anthem" sounds like phoned in screeching rock music that has been done about a billion times before.

They didn't reach number one, and this was the beginning of the end for the band. They were beaten by a stripped down cover of a song about teenage alienation and depression. Which is somehow fitting...

8 In Dulci Jublio

Mike Oldfields' Christmas tune (well, his cover of it) sounds exactly how you might expect it to if it had been performed a precocious school orchestra. The whole thing has a jaunty air about it for no reason whatsoever, and some of the instruments involved could shred your nerves. The only real indication that Oldfield had anything whatsoever to do with this song is the guitar solo - which is hideously out of place and an example of fret-wankery that even Spinal Tap would have thought twice about.

7 Driving Home For Christmas

There are many things to romanticise about Christmas, but this song - in which Chris Rea rumbles on about driving during the festive season - represents a level of insanity about Christmas that has seldom been replicated. Honest to God, there is nothing to celebrate about driving - or to put it another way, sitting in traffic - at Christmas time. It certainly isn't something to writing a fucking festive ballad about, Rea, you gravel-voiced cunt.

6 Saviour's Day

Is this song tangibly worse than Mistletoe and Wine, I hear you ask? Well, yes, because Sir Cliff of Dickshaft not only offers and aural atrocity for our delectation, but he also decides that he is going to force his God down our throats at the same time. God-bothering and the musical equivalent of botulism - never going to be a winning combination for me...

5 Proper Crimbo

I don't quite know whether it is the least Christmassy thing of all time, but Bo' Selecta must be a strong contender. A man in a rubber mask making crude jokes that cease to be funny after roughly 3.5 seconds is hardly a natural idea to be converted into a Christmas hit. But they did it anyway.

The end result is a bit like a Christmas hit from The Inbetweeners - but only if the characters from that show were deliberately trying to be more irritating and puerile than ever before while mashed up on an heady mix of ketamine and cheap speed. The fact that it didn't make Christmas number one is one of the few things I can cling to when I want to convince myself that our culture isn't in a permanent decline into utter retardation.

4 Do They Know It's Christmas?

The Band Aid 20 version, fact fans. I'm not saying that the other two versions were any good, but the 2004 version just sounds so weedy and so puny that it is an immediate insult to an already pretty crappy song. Rather like Live 8 which (barring the reunion of Pink Floyd) was a generally bad photocopy of the original Live Aid Concert. But it is worth just stressing how pathetic this version sounds - but then again it would, featuring leading lights such as that dweeb from Coldplay. Ultimately, this song only works if it is done in a big, bombastic and slightly pompous yet earnest way. This version sounds like a demo for an utterly anodyne, unthreatening version of the song. Best avoided. Like the plague.

3 Wonderful Christmastime

Paul McCartney, dick that he is, has still managed to write some great songs in his time. Make no mistake about it, this is not one of them. In fact, it makes John Lennon's hopelessly naive Christmas song look like a bona fide classic - since at least that had passion. This is McCartney at his smug, indolent worst. It is just a really shit, lacklustre song.

It sounds like McCartney just went into the studio one day, armed with a half-written lyric and a kid's synthesizer and churned this piece of shit out. I dare say it would prove that you can't polish a turd had McCartney made any attempt to polish it - as it stands, this sounds like a half-hearted attempt at a song that should have been erased from history.

If McCartney ever wonders why so many people hate him (and I don't, for one second, believe that he does) he should listen to songs like this. People hate you, Paul, because at your worst you are smug, self-indulgent and lazy. Songs like this show you wasting whatever talent you might have in the most cynical way possible.

2 Another Rock n' Roll Christmas

Ah yes, the troubling Christmas song. It is, as Gary Glitter songs go, not too bad. I mean, it has lyrics, as opposed to a chant, and a tune, as opposed to an endlessly repeated four-note melody. But there is the whole problem that it is by Gary Glitter. I mean, he went from the position of slightly oafish glamrock star to monster in next to no time. Which is a problem for this song - with lines such as "I love to hear the children sing", "this ain't gonna be no silent night" and "you'll be rocking/in your stocking/when you see you big surprise/I'll be rocking/in your stocking/you won't believe your big blue eyes", it all becomes a little bit sinister.

And because it ended up on so many Christmas compilations, and because so few people seem to realise it is a song performed by a convicted sex predator, it still gets played to this day. Which I sometimes feel is pretty creepy.

1 The Millennium Prayer

So, Sir Cliff of Dickshaft wanted another Christmas number one, but those behind him were not able to come up with a new song for him to warble at the world. So, what to do? Ah, yes, combine the Lord's Prayer with Auld Lang Syne. What could go wrong? Well, given the idea is toxic shite, pretty much everything. But the fact that, at the millennium, you want to convert people to God by performing a song that sounds like a whiney karoke number means that you are utterly naive and completely worthless.

Seriously, Sir Cliff, you can take your God and shove it.

But, as I mentioned at the start of this unexpectedly long post, despite all the above, I do have a sneaking like for some Christmas songs. And one video a day will appear on this blog of the songs I do actually like until Christmas Day itself. So enjoy. Possibly.

On Cage Against The Machine

I support pretty much anything that represents a slap in the face to that massive tit Simon Cowell. I see The X Factor and its odious ilk as a resounding death knell not just for our culture, but for our society. Voting for the latest no-talent non-entity being judged by Cowell inspires far more debate and opinion that even a General Election - which is one of the reasons why this country is headed to hell in a handcart.

So I do support the sterling work of Cage Against The Machine. I've been a member of their Facebook group since the summer, and like the idea that silence is preferable to the latest pile of toss from the anodyne, amorphous blob who happened to win in Cowell's show. But my support does have its limits.

See, I'd rather a period of silence (or background noise, depending on how you look at it) won out over the alternative, but I have to say that I'm not actually willing to pay for either. I can get silence for free, right here, right now. I don't need to pay for it.

Which is rather my point. I'm all for making a song and a dance about the negative impact The X Factor is having on the UK. Unfortunately, in their choice of track. Cage Against The Machine aren't making a song about it, and that means that if they do hit number 1 today, then it will have been without my help.

Ed Miliband's Credibility Gap

One of Miliband Minor’s biggest problems is in how he comes across. In order to be an effective party leader, you have to look like a credible (future) Prime Minister. Unfortunately the leader of the Labour party looks like Mr Potato Head trying to be stern. Which, in all honesty, is not ideal in a potential PM.

Other party leaders have managed this effortlessly. Despite being an odious cretin, Blair’s natural sense of self-worth meant he always appeared to be comfortable in his own skin and therefore, at least on some levels, was a very credible candidate for the highest office in this land. Cameron has a similar vibe; while being the very definition of lightweight when it comes to policy, he has a certain gravitas that made him look like a credible candidate for Prime Minister even before he walked over the threshold into Number 10 this summer.

Other party leaders may have had this gravitas at some point in their careers, only to completely lose it. Thatcher would be the best example of this. In 1987 she not only looked credible as Prime Minister, she also came across as an absolute natural in the role. She appeared confident, controlled and demanded respect. By 1990, she had completely lost the plot and looked like a mad old woman who was a liability both to her party and to the country. She had it, she lost it.

Of course, the success of a party leader at looking Prime Ministerial is dependent to some extent on who they are facing. Hence in 1992 Major looked the most Prime Ministerial; by 1997, this was no longer the case. What changed? Well, the 1992-1997 parliament was bruising for Major, but that was not the main cause of the change in the way he appeared. Put simply, in 1997 he was up against Tony Blair at the height of his smarmy charm. In 1992, he was up against Neil Kinnock – a man (like Michael Howard in many respects) who was an extremely capable politician in many ways, but never ever really looked or sounded like someone you would want to put in charge of the country.

It is possible to pull the wool over the eyes of many and appear Prime Ministerial when in fact you aren’t. This is what Brown managed in the years leading up to 2007. Of course, he managed to do this by staying out of the political limelight as much as possible and certainly not letting the Great British public know what he was really like under any circumstances. That strategy simply isn’t open to a Leader of the Opposition – their role is arguably one of the most high-profile in British politics and hiding away won’t work. Just ask IDS.

And that is the problem Ed Miliband has. He can’t hide away and hope for the best; he has to engage with the public. He’s up against a Prime Minister who is managing to remain detached from the more unpopular policies of his government at the same time as exuding a certain quiet confidence in his new role. And there doesn’t appear to be any danger of Miliband suddenly gaining gravitas in the near future. He is likely to remain an extremely awkward figure who struggles to communicate effectively.

Of course, you can argue that it shouldn’t matter how politicians come across – that the choice of who leads this country should be down to policies and ideas. And to some extent you’d be right. But the problem is that so much of modern politics is down to appearance and the project image of politicians. And that’s why Miliband Minor is struggling, and is likely to fail. Quite simply, he doesn’t look like a Prime Minister in waiting.

The Demise of Dale's Diary

So, Dale has gone the way of so many other (and better) bloggers. He’s gone to enjoy life away from the internet*.

I’m not celebrating his departure, but I’m not going to be mourning it either. Dale’s blog did what it needed to do for him – it turned him into a minor celebrity. He’s become someone famous enough to be invited on the news fairly regularly and to get his own radio show; something that I doubt he would have achieved had he remained best known as a David Davis staffer he's gone from being a 5 Live presenter and frequent news interviewee to (in the right circles) a highly recognisable name**. Make no mistake about it, Dale is a shameless self-promoter, and his blog has worked well to promote him to the position of perhaps the most famous blogger in the country. Good luck to him; he wanted micro-fame, and he went out and got it. It shows a determination, drive and knack for self-promotion that I know I could never have***.

But this desire to get into the limelight clearly had an impact on the quality of his output. I’m not just talking about recently, when every other post seemed to be promoting his radio show or a new book from his publishing company. Almost every post he wrote seemed to be aspiring toward a certain blandness. Even when he claimed to be trying to be controversial – when he would start a post saying that he was going to lose supporters over his position in that post – he still never really managed to be in any controversial (or often even interesting). Everything was designed to be memorable, but not quite memorable enough to be genuinely striking. His Diary was the soft cheese of the blogs. If Guido Fawkes is The Sun of the blogging world and Old Holborn The Daily Mail, then Dale’s blog is the equivalent of The Daily Star - middle of the road, non-threatening but equally not essential or that interesting.

Of course, you can argue that he did do some good for other bloggers through his blog polls and the Daley Dozen – which is fine, unless you think about the relatively conformist and safe blogs he used to champion. Dale’s gone, but I don’t feel the same sort of loss to the blogging world that I felt when Eugenides or DK decided to call it a day. In a way, Dale’s Diary shutting up shop is a bit like a boy band splitting up. There’s a flurry of interest, then it is all forgotten about.

After all, there’s never any shortage of mediocrity out there.

*I’m fully aware, of course, that this happened days ago and that I’m basically jumping on a bandwagon, but this is Iain Dale we’re talking about. Jumping on the bandwagon is probably a good tribute to him and his own blogging style.
**Amended as I'd underestimated Dale's pre-blogging media profile (see comments).

***Don’t particularly want it, either, but that’s for another day.

Frankie Boyle, Free Speech and Not Being Funny

So, I see that Frankie Boyle’s got himself in a spot of bother owing to a bad taste joke (well, jokes) about Jordan’s disabled kid. And I have to say that, as with the Family Guy insult to Sarah Palin’s offspring, this is a great example of free speech working perfectly. Boyle is allowed to make offensive jokes, and Jordan is allowed to protest and take offence. No-one is being silenced; the controversy is out there for everyone not directly involved but still interested to make their own judgments about.

And my take on what Boyle said? Well, it made me laugh – but mainly in that “Good God, did he actually say that?” kind of way. It didn’t offend me (except for the fact that I had to watch most of an episode of the execrable Tramadol Nights in order to actually hear the joke). But it did sum up quite nicely both the strengths and weaknesses of Boyle’s show – he can provoke laughter by being offensive, but he sometimes seems to miss the point that being controversial/offensive is no guarantee of actually being funny. And that is the real problem with the show; not that it offends people (which is inevitable, given Boyle sets out to be offensive) but rather that it has nothing beyond being offensive to offer. The endless, unfunny sketches and film pastiches show Boyle is a one-trick pony – capable of being offensive in a witty way, but not capable of writing a decent sketch or performing any such sketch well.

Gordon Brown's Book - A Failure

So, having checked the figures in my local bookshop, it appears that the “Right” “Honourable” Gordon Brown has managed to sell just 13 copies of his book in its first week of release. That’s less than two a day.

Of course, it would be wrong to compare the sales of his book with a high-profile release of, say, a popular fiction title (or, to put it another way, a book that people in large numbers might actually want to read). So let’s compare like with like – let’s compare the first week of sales for Brown’s book with that of another former Labour Prime Minister – Tony Blair. How did Blair get on? Well, he sold nearly 400.

Are there any mitigating factors that might explain Brown only managing about 3% of the sales of Blair? Well, we are in the run-up to Christmas, but that should work in Brown’s favour. After all, his book could be a bought as a gift as well as for the individual purchaser to read. Yet that just hasn’t happened. Once again, Blair has outperformed Brown.

The reasons are simple, as far as I can see. Even as someone who would rather cut out my own eyes and fry them than read either one of those books, I can clearly see that Blair’s self-aggrandising nonsense would be preferable to Brown’s pathetic excuse making. Ultimately, Blair won three elections and ruled this country for ten years. Brown won none and was in power for under three years. And he hasn’t even chosen to give the insider account of his time in power – instead, he’s trying to paint himself as the man who saved the world once again – even though we know he was just a pathetic shit who made sure that the economic crisis hurt each and every person in this country through his ineptitude.

And why does it matter? Because we paid Gordon Brown an MP’s salary to stay at home and write this fucking thing. Even when taking months of unauthorised paid leave from his job, Brown is no capable of turning out a book that people might actually want to buy. What a waste of space – both him and his book.

Voting Lib Dem

I voted Lib Dem at the last election. And I would be more than happy to do so again*.

It isn’t just down to the fact that they made the right decision after the last election and decided not to prop up the failed Labour government – although, had they decided to back Brown, then I would rather have set myself on fire than ever back them again. No, there is another reason why I’d vote Lib Dem again – it is because they have been fantastically entertaining in power. An ongoing comedic bout of political slapstick is the best way to describe the Lib Dem side of the coalition. And at a time when the Tories are quietly getting on with the process of remembering how to run the country and Labour are saying and doing precisely nothing, it is nice to have a party in power who increasingly represent an episode of The Brittas Empire.

They’ve always had a propensity toward comedy – witness their 2006 leadership election, which consisted of senior members of their party washing their dirty linen in public before that party elected a doddery old fool. But since coming to real power, the party has been funnier than ever. Right from the get-go, when Cameron and Clegg did their rose garden press conference, the Lib Dems have been shedding whatever credibility they might have had at a startling rate. That press conference reminded me of an early 1990’s romantic comedy, with Cameron representing a fat Tom Hanks with Nick Clegg as a bemused looking version of Meg Ryan. From there, they have been unstoppable – witness David Laws, and his 22 days in power – the shortest ministerial career in history? Or Simon Hughes lurking in the background, acting like some sort of shady but utterly ineffective nemesis of the coalition’s plans. A bit like the Child Catcher, but without the gravitas and menace. And most recently, that wonderful, wonderful footage of Cable explaining to the world why he might abstain from a parliamentary vote on his own fucking policy! Pure, pure comedy.

It may seem a bit off to be deciding who to vote for based on their entertainment value, but then since all parties do fuck all when they get into power other than make things just a little bit different (and, more often than not, a little bit worse) it is as good a way of making the decision as any. The Lib Dems have always been glorified amateurs at the political game; it is hugely entertaining to see such amateurish behaviour writ large on the national political stage.

*Providing they don’t ditch Clegg and elect a left-winger like Simon F*cking Hughes. And assuming that there wasn’t a Libertarian candidate running in my constituency.

Wikileaks

It’s been interesting to watch the "debate" about Wikileaks. It has basically been reduced to two positions – one where Wikileaks is good and must be protected. The other position is, of course, the opposite of that, namely that Wikileaks is bad and must be stopped. The fact that the extremes of the latter view have been expressed by the ever idiotic Sarah Palin is a good indicator of just how debased this “debate” is.

As always, reality is always slightly more complex than polemical debate positions would suggest. I believe that Wikileaks has done some good work, particularly in showing the cost of prosecuting the war on terror. Have the leaks jeopardised the lives of soldiers? Possibly – but nowhere near as much as the decision to put them into a war zone in the first place. And the whole Cablegate thing really is a load of stuff and nonsense – all it has done is show the terminally naïve that diplomats are not always diplomatic behind each other’s backs. Thus far, there has been nothing damaging enough to provoke the sort of hysterical reaction towards Wikileaks by some. Embarrassing governments is not in itself a bad thing; in fact, it could be argued that in a democracy it is a very positive thing.

Of course, the fact that nothing damaging has been released so far doesn’t mean that they won't release such material in the future. I do wonder what sort of editorial control Wikileaks has – if it has any at all. But that’s something for the future. In the here and now, I would like to point out that the reactions of the pro-Wikileaks brigade to the accusations against Julian Assange are just as hysterical and tribal as the reactions to Wikileaks of its detractors. Yes, the timing does seem a little suspect but in all honesty does anyone actually know – other than the accuser(s) and the accused – whether a crime actually took place? I find that I literally can’t comment because I just plain don’t know – but surely most other people watching this saga unfold are in exactly the same position as me?

Besides, even if Assange is eventually found guilty (and in a credible display of justice, not in a stitch up kind of way) then what impact does, and indeed should, this have on the work undertaken by Wikileaks? Surely the output of that organisation should be judged on, well, the content of that output? I mean, an individual’s non-criminal actions can be viewed in such a way as to make them distinct from any crimes they do commit. Thus, Rosemary’s Baby remains a great film despite the reprehensible crime of its director.

The point I’m trying to make is that Wikileaks itself is neither good nor bad. The best way to assess it is to watch what it brings into the public domain, and judge it based on that. The content it places in the public domain then can – and should – be assessed, debated and dissected in through public debate. But that debate is only going to be meaningful if we can conduct it in a slightly more critical way than in broad, binary terms of “good” versus “bad”.

On "Rights"

There is something faintly depressing hearing people talk about rights. And it is happening more and more – “I’ve got a right to work”, “I’ve got a right to a university education” and so on. And this tedious tendency to talk in political absolutes is one of the many reasons why political debate in this country has descended into repetitive, pointless bickering over the same old issues.

I’ve got two main problems with this talk of rights. Firstly, having a right to something is often totally meaningless in reality. You might say you have a right to life – but what does that count for when the man next to you on the bus blows his rucksack, himself and you into little pieces? Or when the feral chav you pass on the street slots with a stolen kitchen knife you because he doesn’t like your face? Yes, you have a right to life; that doesn’t mean people will respect that right or any others you might claim to have.

And what happens when your rights clash with someone else’s? Take university education – a protestor might claim to have a right to higher education, but that right might clash with another individual’s right not to be taxed to the hilt in order to pay for the education of others. This sort of conflict can be seen in its extremes in the “debate” over abortion in the US – the right to life and the right to choose clash fundamentally, and there’s no way around that. So what do we do? Well, as the likes of John Gray have persuasively argued, we need to do something other than stick the to discourse of “rights” when they fundamentally clash – because such talk gets us nowhere fast.

Some debates will always rage, and when we have to make hard choices someone will always lose out. But if we start seeing these difficult choices as a compromise rather than a battle between conflicting rights, we’re more likely to get to a settlement that, even if it doesn’t please everyone, can be lived with by all.

Which has got to be better than the level of debate around tuition fees; it has ceased to be a convincing argument when it consists of people whacking the shit out of each other on the streets.

Reviewing Gordon Brown's "Book"

I can't review his book on the simple grounds that I never, ever plan to read it. But I suspect this is the sort of review (via Amazon) that I would write had I disgraced my eyes by reading it:

I've never been a great fan of Gordon Brown and this book just exemplifies why. A more useless damaging individual the country has never been subjected to.

His book is a litany of errors he inflicted on the British economy. If Blair had had the courage to throw him out of his cabinet he may well still be in power and the countries finances would certainly be in a better state.

Brown has written this book to hide behind, sadly for him it is turgid and unconvincing, not unlike the man himself.

Of course, I'd have said "turgid, unconvincing and utterly pointless" but the gist would have been the same...

I'm away for the next 24 hours or so graduating (for the second time - once just wasn't enough!) Therefore, posting on this blog is even less likely that normal. In fact, if I was a betting man (which I'm not on the grounds I'm shit at it) I'd say there is no chance at all of anything new appearing on this blog before Friday morning. In the meantime, I'd like to leave you with this thought - Gordon Brown's book, according to my deeply unscientific research in my local Waterstone's, has been massively outsold by the latest turgid doorstop of a novel from Tom Clancy. But that doesn't tell the whole story. On the first day of release, Clancy sold a massive 6 copies. Brown sold just two.

Make your own judgments on those stats. I know I certainly will...

Self-regarding, self-pitying shite.

It has already been commented on to death, but I can't let this piece of self-pitying, utterly delusional piece of written onanism pass without comment. In particular, this bit had me simultaneously aghast and outraged:

These days, I am lucky if I earn £500 a week as a writer.

£500? £500? You're fucking lucky that you earn £5 a month given your writing reads like the nasal whining of a spoilt materialistic teenager whose grip on reality is practically non-existent.

Elsewhere...

Over at the Liberty Cabal, I go in search of the radical...

After his book was released to widespread indifference at best, there were attempts by some to move Blair's book into the true crime section of book shops. It was a mildly amusing idea, stopped only by the sheer number of the tomes currently gathering dust on the shelves of the nation's bookstores.

But I have a question - if Blair's book would be better shelved in the true crime section then where would be the best destination for Brown's forthcoming self-serving pile of shite masquerading as a book?

Magazine - Shot By Both Sides

Cunt.

The Real Vince Cable Stands Up

Very few things have amused me more in recent times than the sudden realisation from many that Vince Cable is not a great leader, but rather a vapid political lightweight who has all the political convictions and charisma of a rag idly floating in the breeze. And I remain surprised that it has taken this long to for so many to realise who Cable actually is.

Seriously, this chap makes Nick Clegg look like a conviction politician. A former senior employee of Shell, he is a (failed) Labour candidate, a Lib Dem candidate then MP, and now a minister in a Tory-led coalition. Hardly reeks of ideological commitment now, does it? And to top it all off, he is now talking about abstaining from a vote on a piece of legislation that comes from his own department. Honest to fuck, a jellyfish in a condom has more backbone than Vince Cable.

Then again, what did anyone expect from Old Man Cable? The sole thing he has ever managed to achieve of any lasting value is the putdown about Brown going from being Stalin to Mr Bean. It is the sort of comment that you might expect from a third-rate comedian; it certainly isn’t any sort of indication that we might be dealing with a first-rate political leader.

So let’s enjoy Cable being exposed for what he is – utterly, utterly vacuous.

Bullshit Spam

One of the great things about being signed up to various job-hunting sites is that you get sent all sorts of rubbish e-mail summaries telling you about jobs that you neither want, are qualified to do or in any way fit with what you’ve said you’re looking for. The other advantage is, of course, that you get a whole host of genuine spam. Like this example:

Hi Dear JobSeeker.
Only for the residents of the UK.
CSB Trust. Our company is engaged in payments automation. Our headquarters is situated in the USA but we have our individuals all over the world. We offer worldwide cash flow solutions for our pratners and their businesses. For the permanent access of our clients and for advancing of their facilities our company is looking for employees. We need diligent employees in each corner of the world.
For them we are offering great working conditions.
You want to be independent? You want to have a stable and high-paid work? Join us right now!
Job Location: UK Job type: Part-time Requirements: - Competent management of payments; - Ability to print and scan documents; - Available to work 2-3 hours per day; - Responsibility; - PC, Internet, E-mail advanced skills; Salary: GBP 20000 - GBP 40000 per annum. We pay cash daily!
If you are interested, please give your CV: info.csb.trust@gmx.co.uk
Please post, if you are eligible to live and work in the UK only and your documents aren't out of date.
Best regards

Something tells me that this isn’t a genuine job opportunity. The English is not so much broken as utterly fragmented – even for a company based in the USA. The concept of earning up to 40,000 a year for a couple of hours of work a day also doesn’t hang together. And I do like the fact that they have “pratners” as clients.

Then there’s the nonsense written in white at the bottom of their e-mail”

anthony and lucretia mott mrs davis yes and lucretia mottfully into effect it is impossible to believe that anythingtheir own affairs and his exampleus to suggest such a word as inconsistency fraternallyof god on cross and who is for hers no man worthy to tasteexcellency the governor general he sat right there whatpocket he set out for rochefort where dealers in substitutesof that it certainly required great force to make the deephis men you have heard that cadet and they walked to the carriage and allwas considering how to go downstairs thiscareer as a nation that such contempt was a later

No idea what that is meant to say or even represent. It sounds like a god-botherer on speed. Still, even that isn’t the biggest sign that this e-mail is just a pile of pointless shit. No, that would be the title:

Part-tisme jjob

Who, in all honesty, would not want a Part-tisme jjob?

Quote of the Day

"I'd rather be a child of Thatcher than a son of Brown."

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am no fan of Cameron but frankly he could not be more right on this one occasion. For all her flaws, Thatcher did a lot more for this country than Brown ever did, and I'd far rather politicians followed her example than that of the pathetic incompetent Brown.

Public Transport

Every government, at some point, seems to want more people to use public transport. Be it to reduce congestion, to make the planet "greener" or just because they can't stop coming up with bullshit proposals. However, as someone who regularly uses public transport (as I hate driving) I see two flaws with trying to get people to use public transport. They are:

1. The public is allowed on them. Which is generally ok, but we shouldn't lost sight of the fact that some members of the public are not that nice. Like the chap on my bus ride this morning who turned up singing to his copy of the Metro, before preceding to burp, fart and chunter his way through the first part of the journey. Before passing out and then having a tiny chunder. He was clearly wasted; no mean feat, given it was nine thirty in the morning. And frankly I don't want to have to deal with people like that at all - let alone when I can still taste the toothpaste.

And he's just one (albeit extreme) example. On our nation's buses I have seen a passed out woman who had wet herself, had to listen to some feral youth having a blazing (and profane) rant against his mother on his mobile and a woman sobbing hysterically at lunchtime. And this is all since October. Frankly, the public are often rubbish and I don't want to have to bear witness to the worst of them as I am transported from one location to another.

2. It is shit at transporting you. Seriously, trains and buses are generally unreliable and prone to stopping their service at the slightest provocation. Take the snow; it has made the buses of York and Leeds more inefficient than ever despite the fact that the roads are clear! There is no reason for it, none at all. But still four buses drove past me yesterday - for no reason other than, presumably, the drivers are jumped up little jobsworth pricks. And the trains aren't much better. The wrong kind of leaves on the line, snow, rain, sun, too many passengers, too few - pretty much anything will stop them operating effectively. I don't who designed trains, but they must have done so with a view to operating them in a vacuum - or at least for use in a world without weather.

So public transport is undermined by the fact that the public use it and it isn't good at transporting you. Generally speaking, using public transport will leave you running late, a bit angry and having had to share a compact space with people you would normally cross the street to avoid. There is nothing relaxing about it. And, these days, it isn't that cheap either.

Fuck it. I'm going to get a car.