March of the Idiots

I was just watching the News at Ten, and a report on global warming suggested that 2007 was predicted to be 'the hottest year in the history of the world' - Hamilton keeps an open mind about anthropogenic global warming, and certainly distrusts the Bush/Clarkson school of head-in-the-sanding, but he suspects that whoever wrote the report didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

Jargonising

Question Time last night was a cringe-and-wince affair. Dimbleby was in playful mood, as was the former primate, Lord Carey, though his treatment of casino-building as a 'moral question' scores him no points with the Newt. Nigel Farage rather delightfully suggested a Tory/Labour merger, but as ever it was the odious Blears who really ruffled my trousers with here flight-attendant-intonations and vaginal-deodorant viewpoint. Here are a few of my most-hated potboilers from the current political rostrum:

'Walk-on-by society' - a favourite of David Cameron. It's just trite.

'All walks of life' - a patronising euphemism for 'different careers, some of which (we are loath to admit) might be more productive and remunerative than others'.

'A range of different faiths and cultures' - The Newt has no real sympathy with either Faith or Culture, but is willing to tolerate any harmless entity. Dogtooth is not opposing diversity - it's just a disgusting phrase that makes me want to tear out my tongue and staple it to my ear.

'Apologist' - this has suffered recently from very lazy usage (it's been a bad year for -isms). An apologist for slavery is someone who defends and upholds slavery. I don't think that's quite what Ms Blears meant...

Idle scribblings regarding countries to the east

Ayatollah-shy Magical Realist Salman Rushdie reckons that Islam needs a reformation, such as Christianity went through. As far as I can recall the Christian reformation involved a return to literal interpretations of sacred texts, a rejection of temporal authority, a cult of martyrdom, apocalyptic rhetoric, factional warfare, theocratic governments and the destruction of sacred images.

On a related topic: I think I was more upset about the destruction of the Buddhas of Bamyam than any of the human rights abuses of the Taliban. Not something which I am particularly proud of.

Saw this on the tube

I'm aghast...

O what a rogue and peasant load of detestable balls!

Enough of this idiocy! I never thought I'd drink to see the day when Mick Hume (Dogtooth's man of the moment) didn't go far enough - although in his defence, he writes for a respectable blog and must of needs retain some public relations, not having a faceless pseudonym to take the blame for all his vitriole and aggressive journalism.

In short, Dogtooth feels he can say with some confidence that he does not feel in the slightest bit apologetic for the slave-trade. I might as well apologise for the Bay of Pigs or the Harrying of the North. Remorse is a personal affliction, to be dealt with personally by those whom it visits. I suppose I could plead, like Paxman did tonight, that my family were not remotely implicated in the trade - but even this is a weak line of reasoning. Let us suppose for just a moment that 3 generations of my family had profited handsomely from the transportation of slaves to plantations in the West Indies; that my great-great-great-grandfather had owned a remunerative fleet of slavers in Liverpool; that my grandfather had experimented on Jewish babies at Buchenwald and that one of my maternal uncles were a Manson...

...Regret - that the ignorant public associates me with such historical bloopers? Possibly. Remorse on behalf of my "forefathers"? Absolutely not. The Post-Newt has long maintained that family is a myth. And I refuse blankly to be held to account for the actions of those whose only claim on my identity is some similar DNA or a common blood group.

And I'm sorry, but this feeble mantra of 'Slavery's still with us!' will have to bite the dust as well - in spite of Madeleine Bunting's bleeding heart. Yes, there is still sex-trafficing and exploitation of migrant labour, but this, need I say, is a far cry from the African slave trade, which enjoyed social, governmental and commercial support.

Of course, I am forced to concede on a point that no-one had yet made. In the early days of abolitionism in both England and the States, only a handful of people raised their heads above the political parapet. I have to confront the fact that, in all probability, my attitude to slavery would have been one of support or indifference. But personality is the fickle darling of history. As a lusty carnivore, I am certainly a pariah in the making - the next century's moral scapegoat. Killing animals and eating their flesh is dispicable, surely...

Andy Goldsworthy intrigues me...Or rather I should say: his work is very engaging. For, as he proved in interview tonight, it is repeatedly necessary to separate artists from their creations. Most absorbing were the fallen tree which Goldsworthy framed with a brick-wall enclosure, and the glass window covered in densely-packed manure, leaving only a serpentine portion of uncovered glass running from one side to the other, whose resemblance to the Thames unhappily conjured in my mind the Eastenders closing credits. In spite of this, the work is an appealing spectacle. Goldsworthy, naturally, spoke of 'deeper levels', and the importance of the caked manure in reminding the squeamish public why grass grows and crops flourish. As a viewer, I struggled to incorporate arable farming technique - and my sensibilites relating to this subject - into my appreciation of the piece. But I liked the funny colours and the windey-woundy glassy snakey thing.

Ivory Bill: Buffalo Bills African cousin...

The Ivory Billed Woodpecker disappeared, then it came back. Or did it. At first I was excited at the prospect of this cryptozoological oddity, but really, it's just a big bird. More exciting than a sparrow, but not a patch on Argentavis magnificens. If the Ivory Billed Woodpecker did exists, we wouldn't give a toss, as evidenced by the western worlds vast lack of interest in the Pileated Woodpecker, a bird so similar to the IBW that only an expert could tell them apart. The truth is, cryptozoology is self defeating: it's proponents love oddity and mystery, which puts them fundamentally at odds with the scientific community whose ranks they long to join, who seek truth and clarity.

In other news, the sweaty morons at Demos have suggested that pupils in British schools should be taught foreign variants of the English language (hinglish etc.) rather than the traditional form. While we're at it, let's teach them Cajun French and maths using Roman numerals. The impracticality of this situation aside, there is something rather queasy about the intellectual establishment (and much as they might hate to admit it, Demos are part of this), attempting to suck new vitality from the lively development of popular culture. India got away from us, and 'hinglish' is their language now, and Hamilton says good luck to it.

squid pro quo...?

Following a curious series of events, Dogtooth found himself at dinner with Hamilton's parents this evening. Over the course of the evening, marking their movements closely, Dogtooth was able well and truly to anatomise the both of them: two legs, two arms, one mouth (no beak evident), one head (skull dimensions conforming to homo sapiens specifications), no ink, no fins, no tentacles apparent.

The plot thickens...