Sunday 26 October 2014

Woolf at the Door

The revelations of just how prevalent child abuse was, and is, in British society have been shocking. Over the last couple of years, there has not been a single major public institution, not to mention several private ventures, where we have not seen a darker side emerge from the shadows. Those who suffered in silence for all those years owe it to society to try and find out what on Earth went wrong.

In true British fashion, this means a public inquiry. And this is where it all starts to go wrong. So pervasive is the tint of corruption, so deep do the links between child abuse and those in power apparently go, it's proving an absolute nightmare to find anyone to actually head the inquiry. 

The first chair, Baroness Butler-Sloss, seemed a good choice. An extremely senior female judge, she had previously headed the Family Division at the High Courts of Justice. About as independent as you're going to get, with experience of dealing with those who have suffered personal trauma. Great. But then it transpired her brother had been Attorney General in the 1980s, when a dossier naming politicians allegedly involved in child abuse had been 'lost' by the Home Office. So that ruled her out.

Next in line was Fiona Woolf, the Lord Mayor of London. Less experience of dealing with shattered lives, but in terms of independence, still pretty good; the Lord Mayor of London is a non-partisan job, and the workings of the Corporation of the City of London rarely trespass onto normal life. But again, it's not easy. Woolf has been to dinner parties with the Home Secretary at the time of the missing dossier, Leon Brittan.

What this all boils down to is a fear of a cover up by 'the Establishment.' The idea that those in positions of influence and places of power will ensure that they look after their own, and that the truth shall never out. And you can see where this fear comes from. For all her professions of innocence, Fiona Woolf doesn't exactly look the part of the man on the street; it's the gold chain of office which tends to give it away. 

In Britain we have a long history of public inquiries, and they're normally pretty good at shining a light in places where previously there had been darkness. But if we've suddenly decided now we don't want a member of 'the Establishment' to conduct the inquiry, we really have to decide who we do want. Those qualified to lead investigations such as these tend to be judges, retired senior police officers, senior lawyers with peerages... all of whom are textbook 'Establishment.'

So, what instead? Either we quite literally grab people off of the streets. The chances of getting someone independent is very high. Unfortunately, the chances of getting someone qualified for the job is very, very low.

No, instead someone else is required. What we ideally need is someone who has been in public life, knows the way that the corridors of power in the UK, but has few if any ties to 'the Establishment,' or any of the major political parties. They'd have to not be in power any more, maybe recently vacated a position of responsibility, but still with the right qualifications to head a major public body...

I'm sure an idea will come to me eventually...


Wednesday 22 October 2014

The Wit and Wisdom of... All the President's Men

You know the results of the latest Gallup Poll? Half the country never even heard of the word Watergate. Nobody gives a shit. You guys are probably pretty tired, right? Well, you should be. Go on home, get a nice hot bath. Rest up... 15 minutes. Then get your asses back in gear. We're under a lot of pressure, you know, and you put us there. Nothing's riding on this except the, uh, first amendment to the Constitution, freedom of the press, and maybe the future of the country. Not that any of that matters, but if you guys fuck up again, I'm gonna lose my temper. I promise you, you don't want me to lose my temper

"All the President's Men," 1976 film. Ben Bradlee, editor of the Washington Post, who died today.


Monday 20 October 2014

Britain First Posters, Beware...

Everyone is against cruelty to animals. Everyone. All it takes is a picture of a malnourished puppy, an injured kitten or a dead seal to get our blood boiling.

Everyone is in favour of looking after old people. We'll all be old one day, and even in our increasingly selfish era, the idea that society must provide a basic level of care to its elderly is deeply ingrained. There is even more support for the idea that those who served this country in the armed forces are deserving of our care. Even if we disagree profoundly with the conflicts soldiers are dispatched to in the name of the United Kingdom, no one could disagree that when they come back, we have a duty of care to these people.

But I suspect, or at least hope, that not everyone is a fascist. That not everyone believes and distributes the latest versions of the stock fairytales of the far right. That not everyone supports the idea of street marches into areas with a high ethnic minority population. That not everyone believes in repatriating immigrants, or treating ethnic minorities like second class citizens. That not everyone believes in a white supremacist, Christian-centric state, with dramatic curtailments in the right to divorce and abortion.

So my challenge is simple. The next time you see a picture of an abused animal on Facebook, or a story about the low level of pensioner benefits, before you click like or share, stop and think. Could this story, emotive though it is, actually be a piece of political propaganda? A message from a group which rose out of the ashes of the BNP, and draws on the street protests of the EDL.

Britain First is not a truth speaking website. It is not an honest Facebook group. It is not an arena for politically incorrect jokes. It is a far right political party, pure and simple. Let's not give them the oxygen of publicity.

Saturday 18 October 2014

Observations on... Matriculation

So, I'm currently enrolled on a PGCE course. Think of a British university for a second. Unless you've thought of one you went to, chances are the one in your head is the one I'm at, or the one it gets lumbered in with. And part of the 'hilarious quirks/decadent ridiculousness' of being a student at the University of Oxford is that you have to matriculate. 

For those (like me) who suspected this was something to do with being a mother, matriculation is the ceremony the University requires you to go through in order to be a student there. Back in the day, before widespread secondary education, it was the entrance exam. Now, it's a chance to prat about in robes for the day...

1. I'd forgotten how much I hate bow-ties.
2. Two people told me I looked "dapper/carried off the robes look". And I was told I looked very attractive. Although the last one was by another guy...
3. Given the apparent intelligence of Oxford students, it's very hard to get them to get in a line and walk anywhere.
4. Freshers are definitely getting younger.
5. Robes should be reintroduced for teachers, if nothing else to send small children flying as they billow behind you.
6. The Sheldonian Theatre must be horrendously impractical for any real plays.
7. There's no need to do the important bit in Latin. It means only Classicists and Catholic theologians have any real idea of what's going on.
8. It also means I could have agreed to anything and wouldn't know...
9. Any event which dictates the type of socks to be worn is clearly more trouble than it's worth.
10. 'Soft cap' is code for 'Tudor bishop hat'.
11. Why do you get given a mortarboard you're not really supposed to wear?
12. This event is clearly kept going largely for the benefit of tourists.
13. I tried to convince someone we were sorted into colleges by wearing a hat which told us where we should be. Nearly succeeded...
14. Group photos are hard to organise.
15. This is greatly complicated when you add robes and unworn headgear.
16. Mortarboards are still good for storing cake in (proving my BA and MA weren't complete wastes of time...)

Wednesday 15 October 2014

Why Spell Check and History Don't Mix

Updating Open Office has left me with a dictionary which recognises only words I've added to the dictionary since installing Open Office in 2009. The results are fairly hilarious...

Aethelred
Alcuin
Anglian
Athelstan
Cuthbert
Faroe
Finchley
Frisia
Guildsmen
Hanoverians
Hemel
Hempstead
Justinian
Lindisfarne
Mercia
Merovingian
Offa
Picts
Plantagenet
Pompei
Prussia
Regnal
Toponym
Vinland

A broadly accurate summary really...