Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The good of the web

Your humble Devil has had a couple of experiences such as that articulated, beautifully, in this brilliant piece by Dennis.
I have of course never forgotten Rachel, and from time to time wondered what became of her. She had an unusual surname. One day last year I suddenly thought of her again and Googled it. There was a single chance reference, on a page about an elderly and very distinguished academic who had been pictured at the wedding reception of Rachel X and [insert name of groom]. I then Googled her full married name. Sure enough, there she was, on a professional site, in one of those 10K profile jpegs. She now has an impressive suite of qualifications and is an eminent medical researcher. Her husband is even more qualified and eminent. I found a picture of him too, and he looks like, and by all accounts is, a very nice fellow. From a few words on her profile, I gleaned the impression that she is happily married with a family and lives comfortably in the country.

At this I felt a surge of unalloyed affection and pleasure. I saw that he has given her exactly the sort of life she needed and would not have found with me. My bitterness, which long ago had shrunk to almost nothing, now disappeared entirely as I realized that I had, despite everything, loved her as she deserved. She had made the right decision.

My investigation was the converse of cyber-stalking. Without the internet, I almost certainly would never have known what became of her. Now I do. I have no wish to make contact; there is no point; I have moved on, and when a certain lady presently in Arizona comes to read this, I know she will understand. I shall not intrude again. Something has been resolved, released. I have learned a little more about myself and about Rachel and the way we parted.

For all its dangers, the Web is a force for good. It connects people in more ways than can be imagined. The intensely personal paragraphs you have just read are published anonymously: I can write without inhibition.

I shall, of course, not elaborate on any of mine for your humble Devil's anonymity is tissue-thin these days; but suffice to say that I have since had contact (at her instigation) with at least one of those people whose situation is now similar to Rachel's and she is just as happy as she seemed—and I feel the same gladness for her as Dennis does for Rachel.

Do go and read the whole thing, for it is the sort of elegant and heart-felt writing that one would never find were it not for this blogging lark—and it is the joyous flipside of all of the ugly and angered ranting.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Recession porn

(nb. I am not the Devil's Kitchen)

As if it weren't bad enough that the economy's on its arse and we're flying headlong towards recession, it seems we also have to put up with a bunch of talentless hacks punching the air and cheering. Last year, the certifiable George Monbiot put crayon to paper in a piece titled 'Bring on the recession' in which he opined:

I hope that the recession now being forecast by some economists materialises

Monbiot - ecomentalist and communist that he is - can hardly wait for a return to mass unemployment, inflation and poverty because it will bring us a step closer to the subsistence existence that he and his soap-dodging mates crave.

Now, if it was just Moonbat talking this shit, you could dismiss it - quite correctly - as the ravings of a madman, but the recession fetish is spreading far and wide.

Recession porn follows a strict format. First comes the token gesture of sympathy to those who will suffer, swiftly followed by unrestrained glee that economic collapse will stop those ghastly commoners buying handbags/going on holiday/driving their cars etc. Here's India Knight in last week's Sunday Times:

...endless headlines about falling house prices, recession, fuel costs and every single thing that you need becoming prohibitively expensive. Perversely I’m rather loving them, mostly because I am happy to observe that the decades of vulgar excess are finally over. I was speaking about this to a friend last week and we were both retrospectively astonished about how we lived eight or nine years ago - we were, we concluded, like mad people, or at least delusional ones: weekend pads in the country (paid for by overdraft), regular blowdries (ditto), dinners in expensive restaurants (tritto), thinking nothing about buying handbags that cost the upper end of three figures (quadritto).

Alright, so you and your mates are a bunch of stupid fucking shopaholics. Why am I not surprised?

I could go on


(and I have - I’ve written a book about the joys of the New Thrift, it’s out in November)

Priced at a less-than-thrifty £14.99. For 272 pages.

but you probably get the idea: what seems like a depressing time - rain, recession, getting a shock every time you fill up the car with petrol - can, with a little ingenuity and provided you weren’t on the breadline to start off with, have unpredictably cheering results on the home front.

How very jolly. You are, quite literally, the poor man's Mrs Beeton.

There’s no denying that some people are feeling the pinch in a way that causes them sleepless nights and I don’t mean to make light of their anxieties.


You've got a funny way of showing it. And I can feel a 'but' coming...


But, combined with the washout of a summer we’ve just had, there is a strong collective sense of us all coming back down to earth. It’s like a huge national reality check and, unwelcome as it may be, there is a possibility that it will result in us straightening out our priorities. The fact of the matter is that, although it may be a great bore to have to restrict our shopping to the window variety, most of us have enough stuff.

Most of us "have enough stuff" at the moment but that'll soon change when we lose our jobs and get our homes repossessed. And won't that be a terrible "bore", you vacuous bint?

In her defence, India Knight is a third-rate columnist with a book to plug (it doesn't sound much like a defence, I know, but bear with me). Her piss-poor column generally consists of three themes: (a) having children, (b) having a job and (c) combining (a) and (b) . She is well out of her comfort zone when discussing economics so it's no wonder she comes across as a fucking idiot. But she's not the only one who gets misty-eyed at the thought of a return to the austerity of post-war Britain.

Take Tim Lott. This twat writes for The Independent so you could be forgiven - even applauded - for having never heard of him. His article is called - I kid you not - 'Bring on the pain of a recession and purge our coarsened souls':

Recessions are nasty, horrible and painful. Many people are already suffering, many more will suffer. The unemployed, the elderly, the poor – all the usual victims will get it in the neck. It would be in the poorest taste imaginable to celebrate an economic slump and thus insult the many losers such a slump would produce.

Having got that out of his system, Mr Lott goes on to celebrate an economic slump and insult the many losers. In the poorest taste imaginable.

I would like to modestly suggest that recessions are both inevitable and (this is the controversial part) a bit – just a little bit – desirable.

Strap yourself in.

Christopher Ruhm, the American economist, for instance, has published a study suggesting that a 1 per cent rise in unemployment reduced the death rate in the US by 0.5 per cent. Higher unemployment, he argues, can mean fewer cars on the road and thus fewer accidents. This also means less air pollution and a drop in pulmonary diseases and heart attacks. Also he suggests that during a slump it is the heaviest smokers, drinkers and the most obese who are likely to change their behaviour.

I've never heard of Christopher Ruhm but the man sounds like an arse. A reduction in traffic accidents as a result of a negligible reduction in car travel is pie in the sky and "the heaviest smokers, drinkers and the most obese" are always the least likely to change their behaviour: that's why they're the heaviest smokers/drinkers/most obese. People will sell their own grandmother for a tab and a pint when times are tough. It's everything else that gets neglected (which is why, incidentally, sin taxes on fags and booze are ineffective and - because they make poverty worse - counterproductive).

Recession can lead to many other benefits – a boom in public works for instance. With residential construction virtually stopped it's likely to get a lot cheaper to build things. One of the enduring legacies of America's Great Depression, for example, was the infrastructure: roads, bridges, dams, city halls, museums and parks. During recessions, governments get far more for their money, so embark on public works projects, which can also cut unemployment.

You really haven't got a fucking clue, have you? During recessions, governments get far less money because fewer people are paying tax. Fuck me, this is such basic stuff. Even if the state could afford to pay the unemployed to construct monuments, it would not create any wealth. As has been appreciated for quite some time, a country cannot spend its way out of a recession. If "building things" was the answer to unemployment we could pay the jobless to construct pyramids in the Yorkshire Dales. As Frederick Bastiat noted over 150 years ago, in the parable of the broken window, that would be a fucking insane way to run an economy:

The ultimate absurdity revealed by the broken window fallacy is that if it were true, then governments could easily create and fructify wealth: they need only (and repeatedly) erect pyramids and monuments, dynamite them and immediately rebuild them. Better yet, if "job creation" were desired, then labour-intensive shovels should replace capital-intensive earthmoving equipment; and if even more "job creation" were sought, substitute the shovels with spoons.

Exactly. I'll say it again: this is really basic stuff.

Then we get the Monbiot argument:

...my feeling is that the environment may also benefit from a recession. People will want to cut their energy costs, therefore non-essential power consumption will drop by far more than any amount of liberal nagging would achieve... there will be less eating out (therefore less driving) and less meat eating (since it is more expensive). Holidays and therefore air travel will slump, curbing pollution.

Now we're getting down to it. Let's get the proles off the roads, off the aeroplanes and back indoors eating vegetables.

The mall culture that has destroyed many of Britain's high streets is likely to erode in the face of the financial burden of a car journey that can offset many of the economic benefits of out-of-town superstores. High streets – especially as rents begin to fall as businesses fail – can start to regenerate with smaller, more individual shops.

Oh, don't be so pathetic. The supermarkets will ride out any recession. It will be the small shops and independent traders that will go under.

During the Eighties, for instance, it could be argued that the huge amount of youth unemployment led to a burgeoning of creativity. The inevitability – and relative acceptability – of being on the dole meant creative layabouts spent a lot of time doing reasonably creative things, and it helped fill the art schools and led to, among other things, the New Wave in music and, arguably, Brit Art. Perhaps a rise in youth unemployment again will lead to another creative upsurge.

We are scraping the fucking barrel now aren't we, Tim? Don't get me wrong, I like 'Ghost Town' as much as the next man but surely there has to be a better way to improve the state of the pop charts. Couldn't we just send some promising musicians to Zimbabwe for a bit and let them soak up the inspiring atmosphere of economic decay?

Fuck me, even the government isn't trying to put any spin on this one. This is what they expect these "creative layabouts" to be doing:

Ministers are bracing themselves for a rise in violent crime and burglaries and a shift to far-right extremism as the effects of the economic downturn take their toll, a leaked Home Office report to the Prime Minister says.

In a series of warnings, the Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith, says that Britain also faces a “significant increase” in alcohol and tobacco smuggling, hostility towards migrants and even a potential rise in the number of people joining terrorist groups.

That sounds a bit more realistic, so what the fuck are these pundits talking about? Can't they remember what it was like living in a recession? How they used to weep and wail whenever some factory or coal-mine closed down. Weren't we told that every social problem was caused by employment, inflation and recession?

But all of this is just preamble to Tim Lott's main point, which combines the snobbery of India Knight with the misanthropy of Moonbat, and is at the heart of the bizarre fetishisation of recession:

But the main benefit for me of a recession is not any of the above, but the inevitable change in values that is likely to occur. After all there is no doubt that the past 10 years has seen a exponential increase in vulgarity, greed and stupidity. And, of course, shopping, which encompasses all three.

In a world where Kelly Osbourne can announce proudly that she owns 750 pairs of shoes and WAGs talk of putting their names down for a handbag that costs £12,000, haven't the boom years led to a collective coarsening of our souls? When Lakshmi Mittal can own three houses in one London street – one for him and one for each of his children – at a combined cost of more than £100m, we are well on the way to moral rot.

These people are hardly typical, are they? Lakshmi Mittal is the fourth richest man in the world, for Christ's sake. I doubt he's going to have to take in a lodger.

And a recession will not only see a massive growth of realistic thinking but in justified resentment. Suddenly all those City bosses who have been making millions for shifting figures around on a screen and avoiding paying taxes on the profits will not seem merely annoying but obscene. All those footballers who have been paid laughable amounts of money to kick a ball around will not seem glamorous but venal.

And what good will this outpouring of collective envy do? Robinho isn't going to get hit by the recession. Frank Lampard isn't going to lose any Ferraris. We all know these cunts get paid too much. So what? Having more people getting paid nothing isn't going to change that, you bitter socialist prick. The people on the dole can have as much "justified resentment" as they like, the poor sods, but they can't do anything about it. Still, at least you'll be happy knowing there's a bit more resentment in the world, eh?

In short, we will undergo a massive and well overdue reality check.

And I hope that everyone who got laid off by XL last week hunts you down and gives you a massive and well overdue kicking, you callous fucking wanker. I hope the fucking Independent goes under by Christmas and that you, personally, are told to clear your desk tomorrow. The Independent is the most tedious, self-righteous piece of shit publication on the shelves and you are the most egregious little turd on its books.

All the same, call me a cock-eyed optimist but I think the whole thing could be as refreshing as a slap in the face with a P45 and as chastening as one of the hair shirts Gordon Brown undoubtedly wears under his regulation two-piece suit.


So there you have it. The recession is going to be "refreshing" and "chastening". We're going to have to tighten our belts, stop driving, stop eating meat, stop going out and stop drinking because our unelected, autistic, thieving, incompetent traitor of a prime minister has spunked our money away in the good times. To paraphrase Bill Hicks, I wouldn't mind tightening my belt so much if I could tighten it around Gordon Brown's scrawny fucking neck. And the same goes for Tim Lott and all the other left-wing purveyors of "justified resentment".

Seriously, what is going on here? I know these people are economic illiterates but in what sort of diseased mind is a recession a good thing?

The fact that not one, not two, but three broadsheet newspapers have published the views of people who are in favour of economic misery shows how intellectually retarded this country has become. The targets of their venom - rich footballers, expensive handbags, proletarian consumerism - are the petty obsessions of privileged hacks. None of them are serious issues outside of their dinner party conversations and yet, in a grossly disproportionate response, they wish for nothing less than economic catastrophe to rain down on us all, safe in the knowledge that their own jobs will be safe; their own holidays are booked and paid for; their own children's education is secure. It will be a "reality check", they say. It will knock us down a peg or two. It will teach us a lesson.

Not only is it deeply misanthropic of these cunts to wish poverty on those lower down the social ladder, but their whole reason for doing so - that it will make us less vulgar and more eco-conscious - is completely misplaced. Environmentalism will be the first casualty of the recession because so-called "ethical" choices are invariably more expensive and more dispensable than the alternatives.

In the good times, we can find the money to buy organic food, free-range eggs and fair trade coffee even though we know that the cheaper alternatives are virtually identical. A booming economy allows us the luxury of pampering our consciences with ecological fads and ethical extravagances. But they're the first things to go when times get harder.

Similarly, we have grudgingly tolerated a slew of green taxes because we have, in the main, been able to afford them. But the penny is starting to drop that there has not been any global warming for a decade and we are becoming increasingly suspicious that the whole issue is, at best, an excuse for higher taxes and, at worst, a complete fucking scam. What were tolerable irritations in the good times will become intolerable impositions in the lean years and the public won't stand for it.

Look how quickly the government dropped its road tax plans and its 2p petrol hike after it got its arse kicked in a couple of by-elections. Where were Brown's green credentials when he went scurrying off to the middle East to beg the arabs to bring down oil prices? The Tories are backing away from their green commitments with as much dignity as they can muster and I doubt whether any serious politician will propose any new green tax until after the next election.

In Monbiot's demented mind, we should all quit our jobs, buy a plot of land and grow carrots (he, of course, will continue driving his car because George, you see, is an important man with important things to do). Back in the real world, a recession will mean more shopping at Primark, not less; more crime; more misery; lower pay; more exploitation; more pollution; more suicide; worse health. Is this so hard to understand? Apparently so, because only The Daily Telegraph - alone amongst the broadsheets - seems to have not yet lost its fucking mind:


Many of us will be the losers, bleeding money and equity till the bailiffs turn up. Thousands will lose their livelihoods or declared bankrupt. Many homes will be shattered and families made destitute. What happened in Georgia recently was a walk in the park by comparison. This is tragedy on a global scale. Nothing to celebrate there.

Recession is only good if you are the kind of person that takes pleasure in the pain and ruin of others.

How true that is. What a set of bastards.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Let's go Wilde

The Englishman may well have gone for Debbie Harry, but if we are talking bottle-blondes, I'll go with Kim Wilde, myself. In fact, I still would: Kim's 46 in this video (Perfect Girl, 2006) and still looking, frankly, fantastic...


And let's have one of her older efforts too. I've already posted Water on Glass once, so I think that we'll go for Kim's 1986 reworking of The Supremes' You Keep Me Hanging On this time.


Kim Wilde: now a professional gardener and the thinking man's quality Brit-pop totty...

Saturday, December 22, 2007

More than a drug is what I need...

More in a musical vein: here's the original video to James's Say Something.


Apart from being a great song, it was the lyrics of the second verse that tipped me over into making the irrevocable decision, well over a year ago, actually to move to the Big Smoke. [Emphasis mine.]
Take a drug to set you free
Strange fruit from a forbidden tree
You've got to come down soon
More than a drug is what I need
Need a change of scenery
Need a new life

For those of you who are fans, James have a new album scheduled for 7th April 2008, and they are touring in the same month. I highly recommend going to see them, if you can: they are, I think, my favourite live band (I've seen them three times this year). More details on their website and MySpace.

P.S. The Cure have a new album out at around the same time, so I'm looking forward to next year being a good one musically...

Monday, December 17, 2007

An beautiful Vista

This is an amusing article: a full review of the benefits of "upgrading" to XP...
I have finally decided to take the plunge. Last night I upgraded my Vista desktop machine to Windows XP, and this afternoon I will be doing the same to my laptop.

Well, I laughed. And laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed and...

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Like Newcastle United...

Iain Dale has finally published the list of the Top 500 UK Political bloggers as voted for by readers and bloggers alike, i.e. you, the viewing public.

Thanks to everyone who voted for The Kitchen and put us in at #6. And, once again, thanks to all the contributors to The Kitchen, who help to make it the sweary place that it is. As your humble Devil approaches his third year of blogging, he can only hope that he will maintain his place in next year's roundup: how could I possibly beat those in slots 1 to 5 (barring some... er... accident befalling them)?

What amused me most, however, was that Iain compared your humble Devil to Newcastle United FC.
There are four blogs who, in terms of influence and traffic, are way ahead of the others – Guido Fawkes, ConservativeHome, Iain Dale’s Diary and PoliticalBetting.com. They are, if you like, the Chelsea, Manchester United, Liverpool and Arsenal of the UK blogging fraternity. You then have a few teams who might challenge in a good year – Dizzy Thinks (Everton), Devil’s Kitchen (Newcastle) and Recess Monkey (Spurs) – a few new comers who fizz into their first year with huge promise...

Growing up in a middle-class family with no interest in sport, in Kent*, meant that I have never been a follower of any football team. However, a couple of my good friends in Edinburgh were Novocastrians and so the only football team that I have ever supported—albeit in the most desultory manner—are Sunderland Newcastle United.

My last observation would be that I am beating my footballing namesake: Newcastle United are currently sitting at #8 in the Premier League...

* UPDATE: I notice that there is, in fact, a blog devoted to my home town...

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Earliest political memory

Shane Greer has tagged me with this meme, so I suppose that I ought to indulge (although I doubt that I can match his harrowing recollection). Like Caroline Hunt, I have been surrounded by politics, mainly in the form of my father's Telegraph-induced exasperated breakfast rantings—obviously a family tradition which your humble Devil is merely keeping alive in a more permanent medium. Coupled with my drink- and drug-diminished brain, all this makes it difficult to distinguish any political memories at all.

As such, I suppose that the one that I best recall was during the 1992 election. Having watched a couple of hours of coverage we retired to bed, my father muttering that "there was absolutely no point in staying up to watch that ghastly turd, Kinnock, win."

Imagine my surprise (and confusion) then when—at some ungodly hour of the morning, maybe 5 or so—my door burst open and my father rushed in, clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, punching the air and yelling, "We won! We won! Take that, you bloody Welsh windbag!"

Cue another five years of my father sitting at the breakfast table ranting about what an arsehole Major was...

I am required to tag five other people, so I would be intrigued to hear the earliest political memories of Mr E, Chris Strange, Jackart, Bag and Unity.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

TV Producers destroy Ming

No, not the LibDem Ming, the Flash Gordon Ming. And, for fuck's sake, what a pretty pass we've come to when not even Ming The Merciless is sacred anymore...

Oh, and I remember all of those programmes; although I think that Unity has missed out such classics as Stingray, G-Force: Battle For The Planets (their spaceship actually turned into a firey phoenix: how cool was that!) and the stunningly good (in my remembrance and, having found some clips on YouTube, not too shoddy now) StarFleet: X-Bomber.

Although, of course, I never saw any of them in colour, as we only had a little 12" black and white TV until I was into my teens, IIRC...