Sightings and mis-sightings

It has been an interesting week in terms of natural phenomena. This Monday Altaa and I saw an urban fox deep in the bowels of town. Altaa saw him first on a deserted street, pausing as he caught sight of us, positioned twenty yards from us like it was a showdown of High Noon, with the parked cars on either side representing the wooden buildings in a dusty Western town. As we advanced he darted onto the pavement and we followed to that side of the road. In his mind, he made an unfortunate decision since he padded along the paving stones straight into the path we were going (which was our way home anyway). Abruptly, but elegantly, he made a u-turn and loped off at double the casual speed he had been moving at. I've seen urban foxes before, but rarely at such close range.
On the Tuesday, I saw a rainbow. Again, not much unusual in that, but I've never seen one on such a cold day which that morning was and so vibrant it was too. Ususally, it's too overcast for rainbows to appear when frosty autumnal days roll in.
However, the Indian navy made a mistake when the pirate mother-ship they thought they had sunk turned out to be a Thai fishing boat that had been commandeered by RPG-toting cut-throats. The pirates scarpered in speedboats when the warship turned the heat up, leaving their poor Thai prisoners to go down in the now-burning floating inferno. A tragic case, but casualties do happen in war and there are no doubts that the Indians, as the only significant naval presence off the Horn of Africa, need to be muscular in dealing with highway robbery of the high-seas.
On an aural note, something that David Pleat said of a Blackburn Rovers playing committing an offence that incurred a second yellow card and thus dismissal. "It's incompetent - and I mean that in the kindest possible way." What!?! How can calling someone useless ever be construed as kindness of any sort? It's another great football comment from ex-managers who are more used to bawling out dressing rooms than speaking coherently.

Pot kettle black

The Groniad, sorry, The Guardian has just published an article about how the British are "frightenly ignorant" and "woeful" at geography. On its online version it has a quiz, asking us how good our geography is. Among a set of esoteric questions e.g. which of these is the most northerly city in the UK - Inverness, Lerwick, Aberdeen and Dundee (it's Inverness, because Lerwick is the most northerly settlement but not a city); or which of these is not a real county in the Rep. of Ireland - Sligo, Galway, Leinster, Laois (it's Leinster, which is a province, not a county) - it presents a question of the longest river in Europe - the Danube, the Rhine, the Severn and the Po. Now of those four, the Danube is the longest river, but it is not the longest river in Europe - that belongs to the Volga because continental Europe is demarcated by the Ural Mountains. This is why the Volga is always listed as Europe's longest river in any respectable journal you may consult, unless of course you work for the Guardian.
Regarding the John Sergeant affair on Strictly Come Dancing (which is nothing to with the title of this blog), he probably quit because the rest of the celebrities were cooling towards him as better dancers were leaving before he was. Actress Cherie Lunghi, who was one of my favourites, said the show was becoming like a soap opera. Sergeant may have rehearsed his line ad nauseam about how the public have half the vote, but the show isn't called "Come Dancing" (which was an earlier creation), but "Strictly Come Dancing" and John's efforts were certainly not that. Still, I would have liked him to give the public a chance to get rid of him, maybe stay in there one or two more weeks, before falling on his sword. Still, he gone now, but it doesn't bring Cherie back. Anyway, in all this hoo-ha, are people forgetting the first series - won by Natasha Kaplinski, but her fellow finalist was a terrible dancer who relied on his charm to get the television audience vote. Like then, I'm sure the voters would have to their senses when it got to the final. If they want to amend the voting system, then the judges' scores should be more accurately reflected in the standings. One week John got 12 points and Heather Small got 27, but only two ranking points separated them, making it easy for John to leapfrog her. He also leapfrogged Rachel Stevens who despite having 35 points had only five more ranking points than him. They have already tightened up the rules so the judges have the final say over who of the bottom two goes, but there must be a way to calibrate the audience vote in a system that can give the judge's marks their full value.

Yo-ho-ho and a supertanker full of oil

The pirates off Somalia are becoming even more prolific than the ones in the South China Sea. Actually, I don't want to talk about the hijacked supertanker carrying a quarter of Saudi Arabia's daily output, nor the confiscated Ukraine boatload of Soviet tanks. That would be a mission for a topical James Bond, rather than the one that deals with a decade-old issue of moaning Bolivians who no longer get water for free after supply was privatised by a pre-Evo Morales government. What does interest me is the news today of the Indian navy's sinking of what it called a 'pirate mothership' - a hub base with a school of smaller ships around it. This is getting into the world of Space Invaders, since attacking piratical activities and then reaching a 'boss' boat would make for a great arcade game. Apparently, Indian intelligence had pinpointed the mothership and so they sent out a craft to tackle these modern-day Blackbeards. Encountering it, the Indians said to the the pirates to stop and let themsleves be searched, while observing men running about the opposing deck with rocket-propelled grenade launchers. The mothership told the Indians that if they approached they would be blown out of the water, which is not the tone to take with a well-equipped modern warship. Far better to agree to a stop and search and then when the Indians closed in, then attack. The Indians forewarned let rip, causing a massive explosion, probably when ammunition had been touched off and sending the mothership to the bottom of the Indian Ocean. Two speedboats escaped - one was later found abandoned, the other disappeared. All quite superb drama - if the West doesn't use it, Bollywood could quickly use it as an emblem for a newly assertive India - with or without all the singing and dancing. Either way, I'd gladly pay to see such a film.

What about Quantum of Solace for the audience?

To say that the new James Bond movie is monumentally disappointing may be overstating the case a bit, but I left the cinema viewing underwhelmed and unimpressed. Quantum of Solace for me is like how many viewed Die Another Day - a film that prompted a retooling of the franchise, but given the record-breaking box office is unlikely to occur on this occasion.
Essentially the high concept of Q of S was all over the place, summed up by the pointless display of the moving white circle (a villain’s eye) into which JB appears then shoots bringing the downward swash of blood, at the end of the film and right before the credits. That sequence sets the scene for all official Bond films, but if one chooses not to have it at the beginning, it might as well be dispensed with altogether.
To the fundamentals of the movie, it wanted to be gritty, modern and realistic, but combines it with ludicrous, over-the-top action - it doesn’t know whether to be Ipcress File or camp Bond. Ultimately, the Bourne franchise has had a big influence on the Bond one, but Bourne is currently superior since, like the vast bulk of Bondage, it doesn’t take itself entirely too seriously, tacitly conceding that the rapid-cut fights are hokum while remaining exciting. The same goes for the plot (one renegade agent can outwit and take down the whole CIA). In fact, sometimes Q of S goes for outright plagiarism since JB makes more than one precipitous leap onto a dilapidated balcony á là Bourne Ultimatum in Tangier.
So, if Bond is to be more like a conventional spy then the action needs to be less unbelievable - I don’t remember Harry Palmer careering about in a speed boat on the Caribbean, fighting off hordes of gun-toting hoodlums. The choreography was wonderful - and completely transparent; if Bond puts a foot wrong, he’s dead, yet he improbably does this throughout the whole movie, breaking the illusion into which one is to be immersed, something most Bond spectaculars did not have to worry about overly, since they were obviously more about fun entertainment than gritty excitement.
Further, the jerky action sequences are cut so fast it’s impossible tot ell either what’s happening or who’s the good guy and who his opponent is - something that the Bourne films largely avoided - in those it was so well-handled as to almost always keep one in the know which tussling character was Bourne or which vehicle he was driving. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but Q of S shows that what the Bourne pictures make look easy, is actually considerably harder to achieve. Marc Foster is no Paul Greengrass, even when recruiting the Bourne Ultimatum’s fight scene honcho - the director has the final say. Bond’s action shots can be incredibly frustrating through not knowing what’s going on and therefore commits the cardinal sin of losing the interest of the of its audience at the times it should be most compelling.
Other niggling points abound. The anticlimax of the flick, for example. Okay, so a hotel blows up, but there is a considerable longeur between that and the credits rolling. Even the outward show of the destruction of the building left me unmoved, filmed at a safe distance from the roiling explosions, an unremarkable chimney stack being dynamited would have been more thrilling. The jagged theme tune written by Jack White and performed by him and Alicia Keyes, but more meaningless than most of the its Bond ilk and fairly impossible to warm to. Regarding the shortcomings of the plot, JB is up against a nefarious set-up that, as in Batman Begins, has a scarcely credulous penetration of countless organisations, right down to even remote individuals whom Bond is not predicted to visit. The low-key ending was a turn-off. Real life may be full of unresolved dramas but generally movies, however they end, are expected to deliver a pay-off for demanding the attention of the audience for the last couple of hours. This just felt like a feature length episode of a serial transposed to the silver screen. The wasting of Gemma Arterton is another bone of contention (or if you’re going to do so, why push her so high up the credits?), as is the oh-so predictable death of Bond’s friend. The moment he agreed to go to Bolivia with Bond I knew his fate was sealed, pointing out to Altaa that he was going to die shortly. I know it’s a template stretching back to Dr No, to give Bond more righteousness in what he does., but if the screenwriters wanted to surprise, it would have been to have let the character survive the movie.
Basically, by stripping Bond down, it makes it look like an average action movie with a big budget. Plenty of the super-spy’s films might be said to be just like that, but they do have something in their DNA that differentiates them from the rest of the bobbing pack. This film merely joins the rest of the pack, as if being guided by an invisible sheepdog. The makers had the examples of From Russia With Love, For Your Eyes Only, Licence to Kill or even the immediate predecessor, Casino Royale in how to play Bond fairly straight, but they chose their own path.
On the plus side, Daniel Craig effortlessly inhabits the central role; barely one does think ‘oh, that’s Daniel Craig’ rather than what’s James Bond doing now. The pivotal villain played by Matthieu Almaric was also good, but the film was so diffuse in its plot focus, that he wasn’t allowed to have the impact he might have had in affecting the movie (as opposed to the story). I liked the return of Matthis despite the, how many times do I feel this adjective needs to be said, unbelievable plot twist involving him. The location titles were pleasantly refined, a touch of class. The homages were agreeable, if superfluous in a Bond film that is trying to break free from its antecedents - the Goldfinger tribute with the girl covered in oil, instead of gold paint; the night at the opera reminiscent of the Venice fight in Moonraker; and the villain wielding an axe reminded me of the climatic fight in A View to a Kill. I found the wistful background music engaging too. Having said all this, the previous Bond film, written by the same guys, that is, Casino Royale, was far superior.

History made

It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. That’s the facts of every day, but now it is special on every day. Barack Obama has won the presidency of the USA. It’s just like Hollywood, though not in the way that John McCain slighted his opponent for, that is, being lightweight. No, rather it is like all those high-minded films that portray a black man as president. It is a dream become reality. There is not much more to say. As Obama and his wife Michelle joked with Joe Klein, the political journalist and author of Primary Colors, the book that satirised the Clintons’ rise, “what are you going to write about us? We’re so boring.” They certainly do have a normal life, kids going to school, Barack going to the gym, shooting a few hoops, so forth. Obama has stayed relentlessly on-message so as not to frighten the herds.
The same cannot be said of Sarah Palin. Though Joe Biden (the third Democratic party Veep candidate in a row to have a first name starting with ‘Jo’) made a few blunders, it was Palin who allegedly ‘went rogue’, talking about what she wanted to say, rather than what her McCain handlers wanted her to. Accordingly, as they might have done with Iran, the McCain team took out pre-emptive strikes on the rogue VP nominee, before the election had even happened.
And now that is has, the behind the scenes briefings are becoming ever more ferocious, claiming that Palin, dishonouring her fellow Palin, Michael, did not know Africa was a continent, instead believing it a country in itself. For a hick, you can see the reasoning - you have Italian-Americans, you have Mexican-Americans and you have African-Americans; although saying this, she couldn’t identify the three countries in the North American Free Trade Association, NAFTA, which has a pretty big clue in it’s title, namely Mexico, USA and Canada - similar to a reality TV contestant in this country being unable to name the three constituent parts of Great Britain. Amusingly, one Daily Telegraph reader, incensed about bringing up the Africa topic, posted a comment after the online article, saying that his wife “did not know Africa was a continent - and she is a teacher.” I love the presumption that somehow that makes it okay. No wonder school standards are falling (allegedly). She should be removed from her profession forthwith (or at least attend a re-training course). Further, being a Telegraph reader, the man probably would have supported the British Empire had he lived fifty years ago. Well, you don’t build an empire if you don’t know where to go.
In the end, Palin cost McCain votes - a complete turnaround from the Republican party convention when, fleetingly, she seemed poised to win the presidency for McCain on account of her scripted lines, her sassy attitude and that she was a woman. It was downhill ever after, as one bad story after another dogged the campaign. The most damaging narrative was that she was an uptight know-nothing, yet one heartbeat of a 72-year old recovering from skin cancer, who had a one in four chance of dying in a first term, away from assuming the mantle of leader of the most powerful country on earth. Many high-ranking Republicans defected, calling it irresponsible. Mike Huckabee would have been a far better choice to energise the grass roots, while McCain reached out to the independents. He would have handled himself far better in interviews where he didn’t know the questions first. But Huckabee had embarrassed McCain by being the last to drop out of the primary and winning states even when it became a two-horse race. McCain’s adviser, Steve Schimdt, the guy behind his boss making personal attacks on Obama, chose Palin, someone who wouldn’t be a threat. Yet the idea of her having a 25% chance of becoming the 45th president, with all of her limitations (being female doesn’t come into it), was thankfully seen by enough of the US electorate to be absurd.
I watched the BBC coverage of the events on the election live, from midnight to 5.30 am, having grabbed a few hours earlier in the evening. The corporation’s treatment wasn’t the most slick and they repeatedly encountered technical problems, which considering they’ve had four years to plan this, doesn’t strike one as professional. They had even got rid of the swing-o-meter, going for purely functional facts and figures, with Jeremy Vine strutting around a CGI gantry like a Bond villain planning his next move. Therefore it was dry, but not like gin.
All the same, I didn’t fell compelled to change to another channel - maybe because I trust the BBC to perform better than the others, maybe because it was such an early hour and I couldn’t be bothered to have the news coming at me from a different angle. There was still a sense of euphoria roused from within me as Obama exceeded the critical 270 electoral college vote mark. The electoral college is fifty years out of date, if not more - in a two-party state, proportional representation makes much more sense, especially in the run for the presidency - but the Democrats certainly played the existing system well here, completely trouncing McCain in this format with twice as many collegians for Obama as McCain. The best part of the election night - after actual confirmation of Obama’s victory - was a completely doo-lally Gore Vidal sounding-off in such a rambling way as to engulf us in a verbal thicket. He was as laughable as one of his more risible screenplays. It would be kind to say that he had indulged in a bit too much to drink. He crocheted about a possible eruption against Obama from political opponents, he ranted about how the Republican party wasn’t a party at all, but a mindset, he regaled us with his upbringing in a political family to no real gain to the audience, all while avoiding eye contact with the camera, like someone who doesn’t quite know what’s going on, but knows they don’t want that. When Jonathan Dimbleby tried to extract responses from Vidal, he retorted that he didn’t know who Dimbleby was or why he was on the TV at all, since “you tend to get on there people who don’t know anything” (he had a point on that). I knew it would be a YouTube hit and that has materialised, but I’m glad to have seen it live first-off.

Momentous Change?

The good citizens of the USA are going to the polls today (or tomorrow for Alaskans and Hawaiians). In some states, the voting is already underway. It will be the first time since JFK in 1960 that a senator will have been elected president, no matter which party wins. Americans tend to prefer governors who they see as untainted by Washington politics, are closer and more responsive to their communities and have had more of a task of, well, governing. But now it’s Senator Obama versus Senator McCain. Democrat versus Republican duking it out.
As with many people in Britain, I have been fairly enthralled by the vicissitudes of Yanks electioneering, but will be glad when its over. It will be a historic election whatever happens. Either the first African-American becomes president or we will see the oldest man ever elected to a first term of office. There are some polls that suggest that if Obama was white he would be streets ahead, but that’s not the point. It’s going to be hard for any African-American to break into the White House, but it’s going to be a long time before the conditions are going to be as good for a black president to make a bid for the Oval Office. Elect a white man and it’s almost going to be business as usual. Barack Obama may advocate change, but he himself represents change.
Initially, I had supported my whimsical side, backing Hilary Clinton, partly because she was quite experienced, largely because she was a woman but mainly because if she became president then her husband would become ‘First Man’. But he would be no ordinary ‘First Man’. He was Bill Clinton. How often in the future would an ex-president move into the White House, but not as chief executive. I liked his branding of himself as the First Laddie. If it had been any other female, I would have reverted to my default position of preferring to see a black man in the White House to a woman, but Hilary had this unique attribute. But Obama won me over with his clearly defined policies (withdrawing from Iraq) and his rhetoric of hope. Long before the Democratic primaries were over (which I thought would go all the way to the August convention), I was hoping Barack Obama would do it. Obama is more of a clean break with the past. He stokes both my pragmatism and my idealism.
Obama has also made a smart choice in vice-presidential candidate in Joe Biden, garrulous, gaffe-prone, but immensely experienced and honest. McCain has made a horrific choice in Sarah Palin, who was so awful when quizzed on her own, that McCain had to be beside her as her minder in interviews. If McCain loses and Palin runs as Republican nominee in four years time, the party will be banished to the wilderness (something to be greeted with relief).
John McCain’s pedalling of lies about Obama has killed his reputation for integrity. McCain may feel that George Bush stole his chance of winning the presidency eight years ago by sliming him with dirty slurs and is stealing it again by wrecking the economy, getting involved in unpopular belligerence (unpopular because it looks like a quagmire) and just being a rotten president. McCain however seems to believe in adopting the same strategy, pretending that Obama is closely associated with terrorists, cooling off when it looked like it was backfiring, but then hitting hard again in desperation. He dishonours himself in doing so. It is unbecoming of one aspiring to be president (yet so often it happens).
Barack Obama’s grandmother dying is a personal tragedy and not just that she will not be there to see the child she raised take the White House. But it should guarantee Obama such an outpouring of sympathy from America neutrals that he should handily win this election. It was like when in 2002 the Queen Mother died, instantly boosting the popularity of the monarchy before the Golden Jubilee. I was quietly confident of Democrat nominee John Kerry winning in 2004, so I’m not taking anything for granted in this election, but in 2008 it is not Obama’s to lose, it is Obama’s to win in a landslide.
I’ve taken Wednesday off so I can watch the progress of what is going to be a momentous election. I’ll watch through the early hours of the morning, before drifting off after what has hopefully been a new dawn. The Democrats should also do well in Congress. Barack Obama may not be able to do everything people believe he will do, but just in himself as president, he will show a new face of the USA to the world.