Floating down to Camelot

I wrote this on the ferry to Lymington last weekend, ready to sing in the pub to a crowd of Morris dancers. As such, it was written to a deadline, so it isn't very polished, but it's as polished as it's going to get. It was inspired by a series of solemn warnings in our staff newsletter, which had aimed for catchy Christmas-related headlines, but somehow... failed.

( God help you, merry gentlemen... )

I have many pet irritations in movieland, that world where physical things work differently from how they work in real life. My current number one bugbear is the fact that in most movies, broken glass is no more dangerous than rose petals, in that heroes crash through windows and fall heavily onto the shards, then get up without a speck of blood, and huge expanses of glass explode and shower fragments all over crowds of innocents, without a single injury. Another longterm annoyance comes from the fact that head injuries almost invariably lead to a neat and silent tumble into instant blood-free unconciousness, with no apparent ill-effect afterwards.

By far the most trivial of these irritations, and thus one of the most irritating, is the way that movieland necklaces don't behave the same as real world necklaces. But, thinking about it, it's probably best that they don't.

( The pirate and the necklace )

The EFDSS is the English Folk Dance and Song Society. I was amused by the front cover of their annual report, and it prompted me to write a little flight of fancy. Quite how different would the world of Star Wars have been had stormtroopers discovered Morris dancing?

( Dancing stormtroopers )

So, on Facebook earlier today, the_marquis mentioned zombie Christmas songs, which immediately made me want to write a song beginning "In the bleak midwinter, zombie hordes made moan." I tried to do it when I got home from work, but very soon came to the conclusion that zombies don't actually do very much at all, except for groan and eat brains, and these things do not sustain a five verse song. Then I remembered that I already knew that Good King Wenceslas was some sort of flesh-eating monster - "Bring me flesssh! and bring me wine!.. Thou and I shall see him die!" - so I started writing a song about Mr Dracula looking out from his top-floor flat, one snow-bound Friday before Christmas...

But then I got distracted by sparkly vampires, thus:

Edward, the sparkly vampire,
Had a very sparkly nose,
And wrists and knees and elbows,
Palms and heels and ears and toes,
Shoulders and shins and ankles,
Chin and cheek and brow so fair,
And if he dropped his trousers,
He would doubtless sparkle there.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Buffy came to slay.
She saw Edward shining bright,
Grabbed her stake, prepared to fight.
"But," Edward cried, "I sparkle!
Watch me glitter gorgeously!"
So Buffy grabbed and bound him,
And hung him on her Christmas tree.

Our local paper is going on about a stealth tax. However, I am far from convinced by this as a method of raising money, and if the authorities do indeed decide to go ahead with it, I foresee trouble ahead.

Evasion will be a particular problem. People indulging in stealth are, by definition, going to be very hard to track down; it's hard to imagine a burglar voluntarily declaring the stealthy act that allowed him to steal the priceless emeralds the night before, for example. The best way to catch someone in the act of being stealthy will be to "set a thief to catch a thief" - i.e. to employ an army of stealth-masters to monitor the shadows and report back instances of stealthy behaviour to their master, the Shadow Chancellor himself. However, will these people's stealthy actions themselves be taxable? If they aren't, then there will be cries of corruption, but if they are, it's hard to see how the tax will earn much money for the government at all.

Definitions will be hard to pin down. An expensive legal test case will probably be required before we settle the difference between sneaking and merely strolling nonchalantly, in which bewigged barristers will aim demonstrate the difference by practical demonstrations in crowded court rooms. After the court case has established the difference, the market will be flooded with DVDs that teach you how to sidle inconspicuously in a way that means that the tax man cannot touch you.

Daily life will also be disrupted in a way that the powers-that-be have doubtless not foreseen. It is hard to imagine how classical musical concerts, plays or even the cinema could survive. Imagine sitting in the cinema, immersed in the emotions of a heart-rending film. "I am going to the toilet for a moment!" shouts the person behind you - a person who, pre-tax, would have scurried out as quietly and inconspicuously as possible. "I'm back!" he will cry a few minutes later, entering with a blast of comedy horn as the heroine breathes her last on the screen. "I am not sneaking! Look at me! Everybody look at me!"

The tax also has the potential to destroy communities. Many people in this world are strangely oblivious to their surroundings. Imagine returning home from holiday late one night - bellowing noisily, of course, as any law-abiding person will do post-tax - only to find yourself accused of undeclared stealth, because your oblivious neighbour had their head in a book and was thus unaware of your return until the following Wednesday. Now imagine that this neighbour was not oblivious, but malicious. "Well, I didn't see him come back," he will swear to the tax man, reporting anyone who displeases him.

Family life will also be torn apart. Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy will not survive. Yes, my friends, this is a tax on Father Christmas! Parents will no longer be able to sneak quietly into their children's bedrooms to make sure that they are sleeping peacefully. Law-abiding parents wishing to indulge in acts of intimacy will have to do so in full view of their children, or else be forced to detail the full circumstances in a tax declaration form.

All in all, I urge the government to reconsider. It might sound like a good idea on paper, but a stealth tax would tear our society apart. I urge everyone to get out into the streets and campaign against it now.

Since summer decided to return this afternoon, after the gloom and chill of yesterday, I decided to go out to Newtown. In the town hall, they had a letter from a lady from Newtown, Connecticut, who had sent a badge in order to demonstrate the "friendship that exists between our two cities." Now, there are some who might laugh at the idea of Newtown, Isle of Wight, being a city, but as I aim to demonstrate in the following pictures and their accompanying text, they are totally wrong.

( A twenty-first century cityscape )

While I was driving across the island today, the Health Secretary came on the radio, talking about his plans to make eating hamburgers a criminal offence. (Okay, no, he actually didn't say this, but it didn't seem far off.) One of the things he said was how they were working with computer game manufacturers to find ways to ensuring that children don't spend too much time indulging in such sedentary activities. This part wasn't elaborated on, at least in the part of the programme I was able to hear.

Given that computer game manuals always advise you not to play for too long, and many games already flash up messages suggesting that you take a break, I don't see what else they can do short of making the game stop working if you play it for too long. Imagine LAN parties in this brave new world. There you are, stalking your friends down a dark corridor, when suddenly the screen goes blank. "You have to go Outside now," intones the voice of the Health Secretary. "This game is now locked until you can prove that you have burned off 500 calories." Or you could be on the point of killing that impossible boss who's troubled you for days, when suddenly the screen flashes urgent red. "Pringles proximity alert! Pringles proximity alert! Remove the Pringles immediately! Replace them with vegetables now or this game will be terminated!"

Why limit it to computer games? Well, of course, everybody knows that computer games are pure evil, created by sociopaths whose sole aim is to corrupt innocent six year olds with games of graphic violence, but apart from that… What about books? Stop children from playing games, and they might pick up a book and, absorbed in the story, do no exercise for hours on end! This vile trade must be stopped! No-one should be allowed to read more than a chapter without stopping and going Outside to do some healthy exercise. What about selling books on a chapter by chapter basis, and making it illegal to buy more than one chapter at a time? Oh, and all bookshops must be located at least two miles from the nearest road, so people have to walk to get each new chapter. Yes, that will work. What a wise idea! It's amazing society didn't collapse years ago, with all this wanton unchecked reading of books. Thank goodness we have the government to look after us!

In a school staffroom today, I saw a notice on the wall that read something like this: "Do you know a young person who is on the brink of criminal activity? Contact the Youth Offending Co-ordinator…"

I can just imagine how the conversation would go: ( I'm concerned about my little Johnny… )

Plus, I've always wondered what's entailed in the job of "Teenage Pregnancy Co-ordinator"…

Umbrellas need to be banned. What with the smoking ban coming in tomorrow, and a shiny new prime minister eager to make his mark, I think the time has never been better to lobby for this. Umbrellas should be banned in public. (People can, of course, use them in the privacy of their own home.)

Think of the health benefits! Never more will people return from shopping trips minus their eyes. Never more will people suffer bad backs and bad necks from desperately twisting their upper body out of the way of someone else's badly-wielded umbrella. Never more will people get cold and drenched when other people shake their umbrellas dry all over them. Never more will people fork out money for some outdoor spectator event, only to find their view completely blocked by the umbrellas of the people on the front row. Even the poor enslaved Umbrellas Users will benefit, since they will learn the rain-resistant qualities of waterproofs and hoods. Never more will they wrench muscles as their umbrellas catches the wind and tries to escape to freedom. Relationships will benefit, since they will no longer be plagued with the "two people, one umbrella" dilemma. It's even good for the environment, as the countryside is cleared of the shattered remains of skeletal umbrellas, torn apart by the wind.

I am aware that there are probably Umbrella Users on my friends list, so I will admit that some Users are responsible ones who commit none of the above evils. Unfortunately, they appear to be in the minority. I am actually quite prepared to accept something less than a total ban, but one has to start by lobbying for the most extreme result, so one can make concessions later. I am prepared to accept the following measures:

- All aspiring Umbrella Users must undertake a course of training in responsible umbrella use, so they wield them with consideration for others.
- The Umbrella Code is to be written and enforced. Umbrella Wardens fine people who breach it - e.g. by meandering along a busy road with their over-large umbrella lurching around all over the place.
- Local Councils are given the power to create Umbrella Free Zones - in narrow lanes, for example, at outdoor performances, or in ruined castles with narrow windy passageways.
- A size limit is imposed on umbrellas.
- Don't drink and umbrella!

After the smoking ban has been achieved, I hope as many people as possible in the country will join me in campaigning against this most terrible of social evils: the umbrella!

See? I said I'd do it. Here is an entirely scientific and totally accurate quiz to determine once and for all what animal you are. (Pellinor helped with some of it.)

Quiz (here's hoping it actually works)

It was an innocent comment that started it all. Opening boxes of new children's books, I jokingly commented, "Is there a law that every second children's book must be illustrated either by Nick Sharratt or Tony Ross?"

Ah, I was so innocent then. There were so many things that I did not know. In my naiveté I believed that children's books were happy things, built on light and love and pink fluffy clouds. Little did I know that they are built on suffering, exploitation and pain. It is a terrible story I have to tell, in which I delve ever deeper into the dark and dreadful underbelly of the world of children's publishing.

( Read more - if you dare )

While rooting around in a cupboard at work today (only two and half weeks to go until The Big Move - eek!) I found copies of a Rhyme Time leaflet I produced, but was never allowed to distribute, since a certain group complained. The reason they complained? Because the rhyme "Jelly on a plate" failed to promote healthy eating, and the horsey knee-bouncing rhyme might lead someone to bounce their baby too hard and break it.

I have spent the journey home trying to come up with nursery rhymes that do satisfy all these government initiatives for children's work, and that would meet today's stringent health and safety laws. Of course it goes without saying that they would all be non-sexist, non-racist, multicultural etc. etc.

Sadly, government targets are not compatible with a rhyme scheme or a metre (jargon and management speech being far more important than clarity of expression and poetry), but here goes. ( Nursery rhymes for the modern age )

This post was prompted by some news items on a local radio station, which a colleague was listening to while unpacking project boxes.

( Building a cathedral )

( Christopher Wren presents his plans )

( Welcome in the May! )

I think I have uncovered a plot to take over the country, by slowly and steadily driving its people mad.

( Public transport: a network of cunningly-designed evil )