A Magician

When I was a kid I was fascinated by a 3-D photo viewer called the View-Master. Last night as I lay in bed with my ThinkPad having finished off my latest post on the Wedding Photography Blog, I followed Design | asides from my blogroll there to the Magnum Photos site and experienced the same magic I got from squinting into that toy.

You won’t be surprised to read that I detest “look at the exotic ethnic people” photography, and I am sure there are people who see his work as something to go on the coffee table to signal to guests how “sensitive” they are to other cultures, but Steve McCurry is a truly great photographer. He lives with his subjects, rather than just gawps at them. You can gasp at his work and find out much more about him from the lovely Flash-powered mini-documentary I watched in the small hours.

Amazingly, McCurry returned from south Asia to his apartment near the World Trade Center on September 10, 2001, so, as well as taking some of the most famous photographs of Afghanistan, he also took some of the most famous photographs of the destruction of the Twin Towers, some from the roof of his apartment block.

Shedding Preconceptions

I know more about science than either football or cricket. For my dad it’s the other way round. This means that our conversations about sport often lapse into arguments in which he’ll say something like, “Tom Finney would be a class above if he were playing today.” And I’ll say something like, “Do you know how much the cardiovascular fitness alone of the average footballer has increased since Preston North End was a serious football team?” [Coming from a Villa supporter, that’s a deadly put-down, I can tell you.]

This is all a prelude to my linking to another fabulously anoraky post by Chris Dillow that scientifically confirms one of my father’s cherished grumbles about the England cricket selectors: that they are biased towards cricketers playing for Home Counties clubs. (Of course, these days, now Test players are employed as such, my dad’s grumble is that Lancashire are chronically deprived of their best.)

It’s only a matter of time before Norm retires to his metaphorical shed with a few years of Wisden and responds to Chris by showing that the apparent geographical bias of the selectors is in fact class based.

Awkward Casting Problem Solved

From The New York Daily News:

“According to the incident report obtained by TMZ.com, [Mel Gibson] embarked on a belligerent, anti-Semitic outburst when he realized he had been busted.

“F—–g Jews. The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world,” Mee’s report quotes him as saying.

“Are you a Jew?” Gibson asked the deputy, according to the report.

The actor also berated the deputy, threatening, “You motherf—-r. I’m going to f— you,” according to Mee’s report.

The actor also told the cop he “owns Malibu” and would spend all his money “to get even with me,” Mee said in his report.

TMZ quoted a law enforcement source as saying Gibson noticed a female sergeant on the scene and yelled at her, “What do you think you’re looking at, sugar t–s?”

Deputy Mee then wrote an eight-page report detailing of the incident, but higher-ups in the sheriff’s department felt it was too “inflammatory” to release and would merely serve to incite “Jewish hatred,” TMZ said.

Saddam Hussein and Mel Gibson both have beards

[Thanks to Hot Wheels.]

Crash Team

One of the discussions I had at Jackie’s party was about government incompetence in IT procurement and management. Gazillions of pounds of our money goes to buy BMWs for “consultants” who I wouldn’t trust to format a floppy disk and the results are exactly as you would expect. Of course poorly thought out and chronically revised specifications don’t help, but there tends to be a common thread to these horror stories: ministers know nothing about IT and civil servants know nothing about IT and the people selling them IT know this. The problem isn’t restricted to the public sector of course. It’s just that the BBC doesn’t do prime time TV reports on network outages at Dorothy Perkins.

I might be tempted to say rude things about Tim Almond‘s choice of development platforms, but he has some sensible things to say about the most recent public sector IT screw up.

Another topic of debate at the gathering was Cherie Blair’s extracurricular activities. I was amused to find myself surrounded by capitalists getting sniffy about a woman who worked her way up from miserable circumstances to become a top barrister trying to make a bit of extra cash. (God knows her guitar-toting hippie husband isn’t maximising his earning potential.) I did point out there were good reasons to have a go at Mrs Blair, but it’s a reflection of their chronic frustration with the durability of her other half that even relatively rational Right-wingers resort to this kind of stuff instead. (It is, in fact, reminiscent of some of the more desperate “sleaze” allegations from the Left during Major’s dying days.) It probably doesn’t help that the Conservatives are currently being led by a man whose idea of intellectual coherence is wearing cufflinks that go with his tie.

Babes Of Biology: No. 2

Having read an article I wrote reviewing bioinformatics courses in the UK, and despite my honest warnings, Wei applied to be a student on one I once taught on. Because the admissions office at [insert name of educational institution easily obtained by googling] failed to process her paperwork properly she had to make do with studying for her Master’s in computational biology at Cambridge University instead.

She did very well in Tabland and kindly invited me to her graduation a fortnight ago. Clever as she is, the main reason I am posting a photo I took of her outside Senate House is that Wei is [near-silent whisper] slightly more attractive than Nigella Lawson.

Wei graduates

Amusingly for a former student in the graduate school of the Centre for Mathematical Sciences, Wei really does have “cheekbones like geometry”.

Graduands only get three tickets each. That at least is how I explain my never having been invited to witness one of these things from the inside before. When I finally did gain access to the ceremony itself, I was a bit disappointed with the level of pomp (no music?!), though I did like that the candidates have to kneel down and bow their heads just a few feet from a device that looks exactly like a glass-bladed guillotine.

[For photos of Jo, the first to appear in this occasional series, go here. Nominations for the first blonde entry are welcome. The Babes Of Biology Calendar 2007 will be available from December of this year at a bookshop near you.]

Afterwards we walked raced through tropical rain to Wei’s college, Magdalene, where another of Wei’s guests took the photo from which I have cropped this wonderful image. Wei looks nervous. I look sleazier than Bill Clinton in a nunnery. At last: a new running visual joke on PooterGeek. I’d turn it into a caption competition if I thought there was any chance you lot could come up with some text that wouldn’t cause mortal offence to Wei.

Wei stands nervously next to leery Damian by the fireplace
Me? The First Earl Of Romsey? Alone in my Cambridge study with a nubile former graduate student? What were they thinking?!

There are more photos of me here and here. In almost all of them I am waving my arms in exasperation with one or more of Jackie Danicki’s Right-wing friends.

The Onion Does Le Tour

Following Blognor Regis’s coverage of the Hollywood-style comeback of Floyd Landis in the Tour, I did a Google News search for the latest and I found this real story from the online version of The Gainsville Sun:

LACK OF LANCE HURTS AREA INTEREST

By Elizabeth Hillaker

Special to the Sun

July 21. 2006 6:01AM

As the Tour de France nears what is expected to be an exciting conclusion this weekend, interest in the race appears to be mixed in the Gainesville area, where cycling is one of the more popular recreational activities.

“I think with not having Lance Armstrong in it this year, people really don’t care,” said Jeremey Bingham, a manager at Spin Cycle Outdoor Center on University Avenue, referring to the seven-time champion who retired after last year’s Tour de France.

But many members of the Gainesville Cycling Club have followed the tour with an intensity that rivals football or basketball, according to Bob Newman, president of the club.

Newman concedes that the tour in the post-Armstrong era may not capture the fancy of all area cyclists.

“Just as not all Gainesvillians are (University of Florida) Gator zealots, not all cyclists are interested in the tour,” he said.

Bingham said the key to building that interest back up will be success from another American rider.

“An American needs to win again,” he said.

Floyd Landis appears to be America’s best hope as the tour winds down.

“Landis is really the strongest American rider,” Bingham said. “He’s a name to look at.”

He even has an Armstrong-like medical problem he has had to battle.

Landis has a degenerative bone condition called osteonecrosis or bone death caused by lack of blood circulation. He first damaged his hip in a biking accident in 2003 and will require a hip replacement after the tour. While cycling isn’t a high impact sport, the pain is chronic.

“I think it’s impressive,” Bingham said of Landis’ performance under pain and pressure.

Looks like the work of “World Ceres“…

Test Drive The New Volkswagen Pantheon

One of PooterGeek’s current side projects is The New Uxbridge Encyclopedia Of The Classical World, a vital and relevant guide to what has often been dismissed as a dead discipline, specifically designed to appeal to comprehensive school pupils.

Just like the compilers of the OED, the staff of the NUECW welcome submissions from the general public to keep its contents up-to-date. Below I give some shortened examples of entries in this reference work and, it being a Friday and all, invite you to make your own submissions in the comments.

Or it might just be that this is a bit of a lame post and I’m too busy right now to make this list any longer myself.

Aphrodite: Goddess of big hair

Margaret Thatcher receives a sustificate from the Geek

Asbos: Greek island famous for its community of exiled poets whose most celebrated verses included “You’re Going Home In The Back Of An Ambulance”

Athena: Goddess of kitsch

Ceres: Previously, in Roman mythology, she was goddess of the Earth, but now, as “World Ceres”, she is goddess of American sporting parochialism.

Chthonic: Gesundheit!

Diana The Muntress: To men of a certain age who have sat next to her at dinner and watched her flutter her lashes attentively at them, she is a legendary beauty, but to others she appears as a dippy posh bint with too much eyeliner and fatally bad taste in boyfriends.

Homeric Odyssey: Epic search for doughnuts

Mars: God of confectionery, attended to by the high priestess Marianne

Nigella: Domestic Goddess

Romulus and Remus: Famed double-act whose slapstick animal circus was the foundation of the Comedy Store Rome—thanks to their unconventional childhood, told dirtiest version of The Aristocrats ever recorded

Venus: Goddess of tennis

Vesta: Goddess of easy-cook meals

Vulcan: God of logic

And You Think I Am A Luddite

The technology Karma Police came to visit me this afternoon while I was at the developing lab as I attempted to explain to one of the Young People, the holder of a degree in photography attained with the exclusive use of a manual medium format camera, how to operate a 35mm film SLR. I hope her college lecturers permitted her to do flash photography without forcing her to mix her own magnesium powder.

Paulie Evans in a suit

Who is this dapper chappie?

[I’ve only just begun working my way through your negatives, Paulie, but if you don’t want to see any more of them on PooterGeek then I’m afraid you’re going to have to pay my new Privacy Surcharge.]

Hot Wheels In Hot Pants

Sorry it’s been quiet. I’ve been working my way through hundreds of photo scans. Once I’ve finished I’ll be back in action here and on the Wedding Photography Blog.

In the meantime I couldn’t help but notice something familiar about one of the snaps I took on the river in Cambridge at Hot Wheels Helena‘s 30th birthday celebrations…

Millais' "The Boyhood of Raleigh"

Counsell’s The Punting Instructions of Hot Wheels

 

Counsell's "The Punting Instructions of Hot Wheels"

Millais’ The Boyhood Of Raleigh

[Thanks to PooterGeek Snr for helping me with my nominative amnesia.]

The Real Price Of Real Talent

Whenever some clueless line-toeing “executive” is asked to justify the absurd salaries that he and his peers vote one another, he usually wibbles on that you have to pay “the going rate” to attract the best talent or that huge “packages” are the only way to offset the risks inherent in working in today’s “entrepreneurial” management culture.

In the top ten of today’s Guardian Top 100 most influential figures in British media, three of the most talented and the only genuinely entrepreneurial members of that group—Steve Jobs, Sergey Brin, and Larry Page—each receive salaries of $1 per annum.

A Missionary Writes Of The Savages

I also have a problem with the discourse of planned/unplanned pregnancy in this context. Planned/unplanned assumes young women have agency, that they can choose what happens to them, that pregnancies are either accidents or overtly desired. In fact, for these young women, pregnancy will be one more in a string of things that just happens to them, over which they have little control.”

Since these Fallen Women cannot be saved by their own initiative surely it is only through their redemption by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross that they may find communion with Almighty God. By the grace of Antonia’s blog I have found my calling. I must minister unto them.

Bush And Blair Burn Up The Mic [Uncut]

Via Normblog I read the Times‘ transcript of an accidentally broadcast conversation between George W. Bush and Tony Blair at the G8 summit. By downloading the original recording and processing it with various digital sound programs I have been able to reconstruct the inaudible parts of the exchange. Here I present the full transcript, with the recovered material in emphasis:

Bush: Yo, Blair. How are you doing?

Blair: I’m just…

Bush: You’re leaving?

Blair: No, no, no not yet. On this trade thingy…can we not get [Indian Trade Minister Kemal] Nath to get his goddam shit together?

Bush: Yeah, I told that to the man.

Blair: Are you planning to say that here or not?

Bush: If you want me to.

Blair: Well, it’s just that if the discussion arises…

Bush: I just want some movement.

Blair: Yeah.

Bush: Yesterday we didn’t see much movement.

Blair: No, no, it may be that it’s not, it may be that it’s impossible.

Bush: I am prepared to say it.

Blair: But it’s just I think what we need to be an opposition…

Bush: Who is introducing the trade?

Blair: Angela [Merkel, the German Chancellor].

Bush: Tell her to call ’em.

Blair: Yes.

Bush: Tell her to put him on, them on the spot. Thanks for the pimp-ass fo’ fo’. It’s awfully thoughtful of you.

Blair: It’s a pleasure.

Bush: I know you picked it out yourself.

Blair: Oh, absolutely, in fact it’s the one I used to cap that fake [DJ Tim] Westwood.

Bush: What about Kofi? There’s a brother could do with a righteous injection of lead. His attitude to ceasefire and everything else … happens.

Blair: Yeah, no I think the fucked-up hoodlum is really difficult. We can’t stop this unless you get this international business agreed.

Bush: Yeah.

Blair: I don’t know what you guys have talked about, but as I say I am perfectly happy to try and see what the lie of the land is, but you need that done quickly because otherwise it will spiral.

Bush: I think Condi is going to go pretty soon.

Blair: But that’s, that’s, that’s all that matters. But if you… you see it will take some time to get that together.

Bush: Yeah, yeah.

Blair: But at least it gives people…

Bush: It’s a process, I agree. I told her your offer to…

Blair: Well…it’s only if I mean… you know. If she’s got a…, or if she needs the ground prepared as it were… Because obviously if she goes out, she’s got to succeed, if it were, whereas I can go out and just talk.

Bush: You see, the … thing is what they need to do is to get Syria, to get Hezbollah to stop doing this shit and it’s over.

Blair: Stoned killaz and gorillaz, them and the rest of their crew.

Bush: Who you mean?

Blair: Syria.

Bush: Why?

Blair: Because I think this is all part of the same thing.

Bush: Yeah.

Blair: What does he think? He thinks if Lebanon turns out fine, if we get a solution in Israel and Palestine, Iraq goes in the right way…

Bush: Yeah, yeah, he is sweet.

Blair: He is honey. And that’s what the whole thing is about. It’s the same with Iraq.

Bush: I felt like telling Kofi to call, to get on the phone to Assad and make something happen.

Blair: Yeah.

Bush: Assad? He a no-chin weak nigga. We can pistol-whip his scrawny optician ass any goddam time.

Blair: Fo’ sho’.

Bush: We are not blaming the Lebanese government.

Blair: Is this…? (at this point Blair taps the microphone in front of him and the sound is cut.)

The Stupider Party

Today’s Economist reveals that one of the few Conservative parties in the European Parliament prepared to line up with David Cameron over the creation of a new Right grouping is the Polish Law and Justice Party, known by the acronym “PiS”. Its leader recently tried to stop a gay rights march in Warsaw. It wants to ban abortion and bring back the death penalty. It is “a great admirer” of the Common Agricultural Policy and supports state intervention in the economy. Is this the stupidest party in Europe? (Neo-fascists don’t count: they’re not simply dumb; they’re evil.)

Now I’m In Business

Currently my photography work is booming—so much so that I don’t even have time to tart up my commercial Website as I have been planning to for months. I’d like to thank all the PooterGeekers who have helped me get to this stage. Whether the flow of jobs will continue to the extent that I can make a living and up my prices to something more realistic is another question. Yesterday, however, I realised a childhood dream and picked up an actual mailbag of post (mainly more film and CDs and samples) on my doorstep. Book me now while I’m still cheap!

Also, the “good cop” half of Revenue and Customs has started writing to me, offering “help”. Its communications are distinguishable from those of the writ-wielding, hard-drive seizing, gun-toting “bad cop” half by their being set in Comic Sans and being addressed to “Damien” [sic] rather than “MR D J COUNSELL”. They’re still fundamentally interested in taking money from me, but their attitude seems to be that they’ll be able to take that much more money from me if they can help me earn more—and at least I’ll get some free workshops and brochures in return.

Feckless Breeders

The Anonymous Economist sends me this fascinating article from the New York Times:

LAST week, New York’s highest court voted 4-to-2 that a legislative ban on same-sex marriage did not violate the state Constitution. In doing so, it added to the patchwork of state rulings on the issue, including those of Indiana and Arizona (which similarly upheld legislative bans) and Massachusetts (which struck down a legislative ban).

What’s noteworthy about the New York decision, however, is that it became the second ruling by a state high court to assert a startling rationale for prohibiting same-sex marriage—that straight couples may be less stable parents than their gay counterparts and consequently require the benefits of marriage to assist them.

[T]he New York court also put forth … the “reckless procreation” rationale. “Heterosexual intercourse,” the plurality opinion stated, “has a natural tendency to lead to the birth of children; homosexual intercourse does not.” Gays become parents, the opinion said, in a variety of ways, including adoption and artificial insemination, “but they do not become parents as a result of accident or impulse.

Admissions

Marvel at this unintentionally revealing Guardian story about the lengths middle-class parents go to to get their children into church schools. It opens with a Jewish mother admitting that she feels hypocritical attending Church of England services so that her two kids can get into the local church school. At least she is honest about her motivations—both to the vicar of the church and to the author of piece, Natasha Walter.

Everyone in the article takes the word “selection” not to mean “selection by aptitude”, but “selection by class”—which is, of course, what the current English educational system cultivates beautifully, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain—but notice how the author uses two of her interviewees to taint parents who want their kids to go to a “nice” school with the gravest Guardian slur: the ‘R’ word. One is a mother, “a BBC producer” no less, with offspring at a school with a “a lot of Turkish and Afro-Caribbean children”:

“It sticks in my throat that they dress it up as religion,” she says passionately. “I love the school my kids go to. I remember going to one open day there, with Turkish singing, Indian dancing, English line dancing. To me, that’s what living in London is about – seeing a black kid in a hoodie next to a little girl in jilbab doing a line dance together. It’s just amazing. That’s how it should be. But up the road there are these white Christian kids turning their noses up at that, and it makes my blood boil. My feeling is that if these parents are so freaked out by the kids they are living next door to, they should get off back to Berkshire. It’s not about religion. It’s about snobbery and racism.”

Diane Reay, professor of education at Cambridge University, has been researching the school choices that parents make for many years. She agrees that middle-class parents do make choices based on their fear that their child might lose their class status, and that schools are becoming more polarised as a result. She talks about the “white flight” not just into selective faith schools, but also into schools that select through their wealthy catchment areas, or, of course, school fees.

It’s that rhetorical racism again.

“As a whole, this part of north London is a great melting pot, home to immigrants from all over the world, many of them Muslims. On its outskirts is a very good, very oversubscribed church school, St John’s Highbury Vale, which siphons off many of the Christian children, particularly white middle-class children, from the area. Of the three churches that feed the school, the most ethnically mixed congregation is at St Thomas’s.”

Can you imagine a Guardian journalist writing an article about how Sikh or Islamic schools “siphon off brown children”?

The piece ends:

At the end of our interview, Coles [vicar of St Thomas’s Church in Finsbury Park] asks what is, I think, the most pertinent question of all for the church and for the parents who use the church to get into certain schools: “Why wouldn’t you want your children educated with the children of your neighbours? How else are children going to learn the most important lessons of all, about tolerance and understanding?“.

Yeah, why can’t those sheltered middle-class kids open their horizons to, for example, having their heads kicked in because they’re interested in studying? After all, the most important lesson any future Guardian reader can learn is to “tolerate” and “understand” thuggery.

The real “snobbery and racism” here—don’t you just love the line about “a black kid in a hoodie”?—is the pervasive underlying assumption that poor or immigrant mean “nonacademic”, though perhaps after a few more years of ideological vandalism this prejudice will be fully grounded in fact.

The Advantages Of Tunnel Vision

I used to work in a scientific research group where lots of light microscopy was done, a place where I was once instructed by my boss—who also happened to be the departmental sexual harassment officer—to spend a summer afternoon locked in a tiny darkroom with two attractive female medical students and show them how to adjust their diaphragms. The group was also notable because there were three researchers in it who had to use light microscopes in their work but who were colour blind. Luckily there was also a female microscopist in the group.

One of the photo labs where I take my film to be developed employs deaf people, which makes perfect sense—as long as the developing timers have visible as well as audible alarms. But, in the same town where I worked with the microscopists, there is a camera shop that used to have a severely visually impaired sales assistant. He knew his stuff alright so I didn’t mind his serving me, but he was probably about half as “productive” with a given customer as his sighted colleagues because he had to, for example, read the specifications on lens barrels or the text on receipts with a loupe, one of those eyepieces you see old-school photographers squinting through to inspect contact sheets.

It was the sort of thing that The Daily Mail would call “political correctness gone mad”, but my only problem with it was that I found it, I’m ashamed to say, hard not to burst out laughing at the situation. Having myself failed at various careers that I should have been qualified to pursue, I can’t help but admire the heroic perversity of someone who literally can’t see his own hand in front of his face wanting to work in photographic retailing. Whenever I think about it I find myself imagining similarly absurd ambitions, like my putting on a tiara and a swimsuit and trying to enter Miss Stockholm.

Perhaps I should have phrased that last sentence differently.

It’s Like Watching…

Isolated a talented striker up front. Lost possession cheaply. Couldn’t score from open play. Vulnerable defending set-pieces. Star player sent off for violent conduct. Beaten on penalties. Who says England weren’t in the World Cup final?

How To Win Votes And Influence People

Dear Candidate

If you want to be selected as the MP for the notoriously geeky and principled Cambridge constituency, spamming Labour Party members with your CV attached as a Word document sent from your work email account is not a good way to start.

all the best

PG

Shrinking England

Via the Rubbish Man I came upon this. Despite the inherent wrongness of psychoanalysis, it’s rather a good read:

“England’s repeated failure in penalty shoot-outs is not down to bad fortune, as the English media, with its empiricist presuppositions, insists. To lose once might be an accident, but to lose five times demands a psychoanalytic explanation. Some clues as to the nature of the libidinal disorder which afflicts the England side were provided when Rooney was sent off yesterday. From being disjointed and tentative, England suddenly looked purposive and effective. That was because Rooney’s dismissal gave England the opportunity to achieve what it is most comfortable and familiar with, a heroic defeat. England players are so accustomed to failure that they would find success traumatic and unimaginable, so it is as if, time after time, the team contrives to lose one of its key players – Rooney yesterday, Beckham in 1998 – in order to set up the conditions for the desired ‘heroic defeat’.”

Reading Frenzy

The PooterGeek site is being spanked like a cabinet minister at an upmarket brothel these days. Since about a month ago the number of hits it’s been taking each hour has jumped sharply. I honestly don’t have an explanation for it, especially as my work these days inevitably comes in bursts and requires me to travel about, forcing me to stop posting for a few days at a time without warning.

One thing that has brought more visits from Google—and all lanes of the information superhighway lead from Google—is the ongoing John Prescott soap opera. The number of people drawn here by combinations of the words “John”, “Prescott”, and “blog” is striking. And PooterGeek is only the third hit for most permutations. I think the gossip junkies would be better off visiting this treasonous papist for their daily spoonful of sleaze.

That London Olympics Line-Up In Full

Following Britain’s torrid summer of sporting failure, the organising committee has radically revised the programme for the 2012 Olympics. Here, in alphabetical order, are the new events you’ll be able to enjoy:

  • Binge Drinking
  • Camp
  • Cat Blogging
  • Connery Imperschonating
  • Crazy Golf
  • Croquet
  • Doggy Paddle
  • Druidism
  • English Rules Schadenfreude
  • Extreme Ironing
  • Extreme Irony
  • Fencing (And Decking)
  • Freestyle Queuing
  • 10K Funny Walk
  • Gentle Comedy
  • Getting A Mardy On
  • Happy Slapping
  • Hating The English
  • Humanitarian Military Intervention
  • Hunt Sabotage
  • Knock-And-Run
  • Line Dancing
  • Ludo
  • Modern Pentathol
  • Monkey Tennis
  • Morris Dancing
  • Municipal Gardening
  • Nordic Knitting
  • Office Politics
  • Pluck
  • Pocket Billiards
  • Pudding
  • Registering A Complaint
  • Self-Deprecation
  • Synchronized Swinging
  • Tonsil Hockey
  • Txt Msging
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