Nether Ether

A nice cup of tea and a sit down

2008-06-04T06:48:00.000-07:00

Early summer time has yet again failed to emerge from the rain and greyness... a litre of petrol costs nearly as much as an inflated cup of Starbucks... House prices are falling, but where have all the mortgages gone?

Gordon Brown's morose frown says it all, really.

But when the going gets tough, the tough have a nice cup of tea and a sit down.

Forget patriotic wars, classy manners and stout resolution, what Britain is really good at is shutting out the gloom with a brew and a biscuit.

According to a 2007 survey, the custard cream is the UK's favourite biscuit choice.

The BBC's most emailed article today? "Biscuits 'key to cinching business deals'."

In the cut throat corporate world, four out of five businesses claim that this snack choice can make or break a deal, with chocolate digestives showing most promise, followed by shortbread and hobnobs.

When it comes to tea drinking, I have to butt in here and state thata good strong Yorkshire brew is probably the best you're going to get.

So, the fact that someone's set up A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down website, I was moved and inspired to dedicate this entry to the most satisfying and British of pastimes.

Picture courtesy of Nicey, www.nicecupofteaandasitdown.com

The dying man who taught his students how to live

2008-04-15T05:04:00.000-07:00

Professor Randy Pautsch's last goodbye.

Tut tut TfL

2008-02-19T12:34:00.000-08:00

Log onto the Transport for London website and prepare to to be visually assaulted with squiggly maps, tables, fare guidelines and small print.

Since the dawn of ken's beloved Oyster cards it's no wonder the staff themselves don't seem sure of ticket costs these days.

But discounted price capping seems to be something that TfL is keeping very hushed up indeed.

A daily limit on travel costs for railcard holders applies to all TfL travel, for anoyone holding a disabled, forces, senior and I'm guessing most relevant to most of you who will be reading this, young persons railcard.

The blurb all basically means 34% off travel when you top up your Oyster with a valid railcard.

That's a third; meaning travelling off peak (after 9.30pm) will cost you a minute £3.20.

This compares rather favourably to the £4 it costs for just two journeys to central London from Harrow.

No wonder they're not going overboard on the PR campaign for this one.

Student Oyster cards also cut a third off travel, but only for season tickets of a week and over, and that's not to mention the initial £10 fee.

A 7 day season ticket which gets you from Harrow to zone 1 will set you back £24.20 - 7 days' off peak travel capped with a railcard comes to £22.40.

You do the maths there, TfL already have.

I'd urge anyone who thinks they'd make use of discounted capping to join this facebook group and spread the word.

Artwork courtesy of www.leinz.co.uk

F is for...

2008-01-23T07:54:00.000-08:00

Flamingo, of course - although I know you were all thinking Fran...

My blogging's link to current affairs is all getting a little tenuous, I know.

But caught between writing nothing thanks to lack of inspiration, and writing about the first thing I thought of, I plumped for the latter.

So, Flamingos.

"Gregarious wading birds in the genus Phoenicopterus and family Phoenicopteridae. They are found in both the Western and Eastern Hemispheres, but are more numerous in the former. There are four species in the Americas while two exist in the Old World. Two species, the Andean and the James's Flamingo, are often placed in the genus Phoenicoparrus instead of Phoenicopterus."

That's according to Wikipedia, if you're still with me.

If not however, you may be interested in the following:

Why are they pink?
The bird's characteristic pink hue is caused by beta carotene consumed regularly in the form of shrimp and blue-green algae (don't ask me about the colour change there).

Flamingos are not born pink though, oh no. They hatch with fluffy grey plumage, which develops into pink as their diet expands to include pigments.

Healthy, well fed flamingos are vibrantly coloured and have more sex appeal.

More shockingly, it turns out that many zoo-captive flamingos are in fact fake-pinks! They are commonly fed with the additive canthaxanthin (this is also often given to farmed salmon. Ew.)

Why do they hop?
Flamingos frequently stand on one leg, but the reason for this is not completely clear.

One theory is that they tuck one leg up to conserve body heat; another to prevent both legs from getting wet.

Flamingos often jump up and down, stamping their webbed feet to stir up food from the riverbed.

And how can they even stand on those twig legs?
Webbed feet, apparently.

Flamingos also have a ritualised set of collective displays, kind of like synchronised swimming or ribbon waving, which occur around breeding time.

Confessions

2008-01-08T13:19:00.000-08:00

The 'confessions' page on the Gumtree listings website is, quite simply, amazing.

Full of horrifying, twisted and comfortingly mundane thoughts and secrets.

You couldn't get more drama from an episode of Eastenders.

Better out than in, that's what I say.

A few from today...

Brother Sister Bra Knickers
My brother takes and wears my underwear (I am his sister). He doesn't know that I know that he does it when I am out. (Or maybe he knows.) He likes to wear my bras, knickers, camisoles, stockings, slips and nighties. I don't mind. Have any other women had your brothers (or anybody else) taking and wearing your underwear... Does it bother you? I must confess that it does not bother me. I am very close to my younger brother.

How the poo did the police know I was using haulage diesel?
Well, my friends father owns a haulage company and his son (my mate same age 21) is a truck driver. His father allows me to use haulage diesel for free to use it in my normal diesel car engine (Nissan). There isnt much difference betwen normal car diesel and haulage diesel. Car diesl is blue and haulage diesel is dyed pink. Also haulage diesel gives off black smoke and car deisel is pretty much nothing.

The Police have pulled me over and rolled out toilet paper down my fuel tank and it came out pink. I was charged for not paying tax...?

Even weirder...I swore a few times in shock when I was told off and when I was in Court, the witness (Police officer) read out what I said and swore. I did'nt know you could swear in court. I had to pay £1000 fine as well plus £20,000 for ignoring Highways Agency Enforcement COntravention Notice twice.

Its not very nice is it. I'm a Chinese man.

I cant believe she is pregnant.how could she be so stuid.
OK, here is the deal.

Met a girl 4 years ago that blew me away. I've had lots of girlfriends over the years (i'm 31) but not like her. She is amazing, sexy, funny, smart and my best friend. We shared the best four years of my life and she was definately the one. So, I had to go to New Zealand for 8 weeks as my mum was ill (i've been here 10 years) and she couldn't come because she had to work. My mum got better and I had a brilliant time with my family and I decided that I was going to ask her to marry me when i got back, even bought the ring.....life was good. Anyway, i get back to London and she was away in Belgium for a week with work so didn't see her until a week later but we spoke on the phone and she seemed a bit weird. I picked her up from the airport and she burst into tears but I thought it was because she was happy to see me........how fuc*ing wrong was I.

She said she needed to talk to me so we got home and went to the pub and instead of the usual wine she asked for a soft drink. With this and the look on her face it hit me like a cricket bat to the face. We sit down and she tells me she is 6 weeks pregnant. She said she got really drunk three weeks after I left and ended up sleeping with a guy she used to go to school with and that she doesn't remember how they got into bed but she was mortifed in the morning and deply regrets it. She begged me not to split up with her but i was so gobsmacked I couldn't think of anything to say. I moved out of our flat the next day to her absolute dispair but what am I supposed to do?

I can't beleive she could be so stupid, Of course i'm not happy she slept with another bloke but to get pregnant is another matter. She is not the type for an abortion so is keeping it.

I am totally gutted and angry with everyone and everything at the moment. This guy, a stranger to me is going to be in her life forever now, why, why, why. I'm so frustrated that there is nothing i can do and I'm really struggling to accept this. This was 3 weeks ago and I can't see her because it kills me to look at her. I know she is hurting too but this situation is not my fault and I realy don'tknow what to say to her. The girl i'm totally in love with is pregnant with another mans baby.... For fuc* sake

Anyone been in this situation? Any ideas at this point would be.....well, interesting.

No moronic bullsh!t thank you.

Walter Sickert's Camden Nudes

2008-01-02T09:08:00.000-08:00

To hide my lack of blogging , I'm recycling some of my assessed articles from last term - this is a review of Sickert's Camden Nudes at London's Courtauld Gallery.

In summary, I'd recommend a visit. The Courtauld is tucked away behind Somerset House and is a beautiful building packed with works by Gauguin, Cezanne and many other well known artists. And it's free for students (and everyone else on a Monday till 2pm).

London’s Courtauld Institute is home to scores of innocent Renaissance ladies, finely dressed wives and a virginal Eve.

The Courtauld is currently showing Walter Sickert’s Camden Town Nudes, an eye raising departure from its more traditional exhibits.

The ornately framed oils, pastels and sketches have been curated into one compact, windowless room, which suits the artist’s shadowy tones.

Viewed as a whole, Sickert’s murky snapshots are a muddle of sordid sexuality and feminine elegance.

But look closer and be startled by his forensic eye for detail.

Sickert flouted the prim Victorian sexual codes, which ruled London into the early 1900s, attracting a lot of attention in the process.

While impressionists depicted the new bourgeoisie in idyllic countryside, Sickert scratched away the veneer of high society by painting its darker side.

His prostitutes’ expensive shoes and ladylike bonnets, are flung on the floor, or found amongst crumpled bed sheets, in seedy bed-sits.

It’s hard not to suspect that secrets are lurking beneath the bedclothes and under the floorboards.

In one painting, a finely suited gentleman sits on the edge of a bed in the foreground, head bowed, a naked woman sprawled behind him.

The woman may be sleeping peacefully, if her neck wasn’t twisted at such an awkward angle.

Is the man’s head bowed in adulterous guilt, or could it be murder?

Sickert’s provocative approach becomes all the more apparent in his famous ‘Camden Murder’ paintings.

Shown together here for the first time since 1911, these four controversial pieces are likely to be the exhibition’s major draw.

Based upon the murder of Camden prostitute Emily Dimmock in 1907, Sickert’s ‘Murder’ paintings have led to much speculation linking him to Jack the Ripper.

Whether Sickert painted clues into paintings such as ‘Jack the Ripper’s Bedroom,’ is impossible to know.

Seeing these graphic works in the flesh though, it’s easy to understand why crime author Patricia Cornwell and others have spent huge amounts of time and money investigating Sickert’s intentions.

The ‘Murder’ paintings pose a lot of questions, but answer none, except that Sickert seems to have been infatuated with the women he painted.

Monet, Degas and Cézanne painted the lighter side of society, but Sickert depicted his prostitutes with just as much grace and poise.

No wonder then, that his creations appalled those who first saw them – Sickert places his prostitutes on pedestals, portraying their femininity and fragility over their reputation.

Even a gore-swamped, Hirst-numbed generation of art fans will find it hard to remain unaffected by Sickert’s naked honesty and chilling suggestiveness.

Camden Nudes is showing until January 20 at the Courtauld Gallery. All pictures courtesy of www.courtauld.ac.uk

Googling faineant

2008-01-02T07:04:00.000-08:00

If google's information-mining omnipotence is the future then I'm most certainly doomed.

Happy new year...

I can't help but be led astray each time google's 'quote of the day' or 'word of the day' flashes up on my gmail account.

It has led to more procrastination than I thought was possible - and by my track record, that's a lot.

But it's the 2nd of January so buoyed up by the promise of a whole new year to sink my teeth into, this is what the oracle of google.com has to say today...

Word of the day (just for me)

Faineant: doing nothing; idle; also, a do-nothing.

Quote of the day

"We are what we believe we are. " C.S. Lewis.

So now I've defined my (former) feignant self, I just have to start believing I'm a media law genius, to stand me in good stead for our impending exam.

Well it's more proactive and less fatalistic than horoscopes.

Flogging a dead blog

2007-12-30T11:08:00.001-08:00

To assague my recent blogging laziness, I googled blog death figures.

I was looking for some reassurance that choosing chocolate over constructive activity is completely fine.

Luckily, I found just the stats I was looking for.

According to Business Week, approximately 21% of blogs have been updated in the past 90 days.

That's still around 15.5 million blogs being despatched around the internet on a regular basis.

Then again, that's also about 62 million defunct blogs, abondoned by their authors for whatever reason.

The burdgeoning 'blogorati' (what I like to call Technorati afficionado-journalists), widely predicted a plateau in blogging in 2007, if not a slow death of web logs.

However, scratching away the surface of attention grabbing headlines and mining into the stats, a different, far more complex story presents itself.

For a start, how do we define the blog?

It may no longer be possible to restrict the label to solo, independent diary style creations, such as the infamous Belle de Jour, which surfed the wave of novel blogs in 2004.

ITV's transformation of Belle de Jour's words from explicit blog into Billie Piper TV series, says it all really.

Blogs have diversified and in many cases become watered down versions of the original concept.

Finding a corporate website without a blog, for instance, has become a challenge in the past year.

Many professional and corporate blogs are written by skilled journalists, which often means perfect punctuation but stale content.

It seems that blogging is no longer just way to document day to day life, but a marketing tool, news feed, social network platform and much more.

Even 'normal' bloggers who attract a decent number of hits can supplement their income with Google and banner ads.

Of course, every writer has an agenda to push with whatever they publish, but the growing corporate influence has to eat into the creative spark just a little.

If the number of blog deadwood floating around the ether is anything to go by, there's plenty of room for all who want to put their fingers to the keyboard and have a stab at ephemeral fame.

But it would be a crying shame if prisoners on death row, Burmese dissedents, even Weightwatchers bloggers are smothered out by bland corporate writing.

Back to the chocolate coins then.

You can stand under my um-b-rella

2007-12-12T12:54:00.000-08:00

All is not well in Fran's world dear readers, if there are any of you out there (?)

Looming deadlines and gloomy December mornings are taking their toll.

I'm keeping the threatening cold at bay by exceding my vitamin C RDA by about 1000 per cent.

But this Biffy Clyro 'video' of their Rhianna cover, 'Um-b-rella' cheered me up no end.

It's a return to the origins of literal music videos - i.e. find some clipart, whack it in with some Microsoft Paint graphics.

I can't listen to the original version of this track without wanting to smash the radio in - getting through the whole thing without wanting to sing "um-b-rella-ella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh..." is akin to taking on a no-licking jam doughnut challenge.

Surprisingly, Biffy have added an earnest shine to an irritatingly catchy pop song, and I guarantee the makeshift graphics will make you smile.

Aside from the blogging...

2007-12-06T15:05:00.000-08:00

...I have actually been doing some work this term - this is an article I wrote the other day - the given theme was 'Christmas shopping.'

Britain’s online shopping sprees peaked yesterday ahead of the Christmas rush, as millions of consumers swapped the high street for home retail.

The Association for Payment and Clearing Services (APACS), forecasted December 3 as the UK’s most popular day for online Christmas shopping.

While shoppers cut down on spending in shops, discounted online prices and low delivery costs mean that online credit card splurges have increased.

Widely available internet access and more confidence in buying online have helped to double the number of adults shopping online in the past five years to 30 million.

APACS director Sandra Quinn said: “More and more of us are buying our Christmas presents online and the evidence suggests we like to do so about three weeks before the big day to ensure they are delivered on time.”

Fraught Christmas Eve shopping trips could become a thing of the past if the slide towards e-tail continues.

UK based gadget gift retailer Firebox survived the dotcom boom and has seen huge growth over the festive period in the past five years.

Managing director Christian Robinson said: “Yesterday was an incredibly busy day for Firebox, with an increase of 20 per cent against the same trading day last year, and we smashed our biggest selling day.

But Mr Robinson added: “It’s unlikely to be our biggest day overall - we’re expecting sales to exceed all predictions on the 10^th. Sales don’t really slow down until Christmas Eve and we have even had orders being placed on Christmas Day.”

Despite the huge variety of Internet retailers and swelling debts, Britain’s high streets show no signs of quietening down completely.

In affluent Middlesex today, Harrow town centre was bustling by mid morning.

Market trader Saed Hussein sells DVDs on his stall, which is sandwiched between the town’s two main shopping malls.

He said: “Yesterday was quiet, but we get the weekend crowds here. People still want to come shopping in town and see what they’re getting for their money.”

Many shoppers are still happy to brave the crowds on the streets.

Outside Marks and Spencer, mother of two Lisa Scott said: “I will be doing my food shopping at Tesco online, but for presents I like to have a look around the shops. It’s all part of the fun.”

Jesus and the wasted sprouts

2007-12-04T13:37:00.000-08:00

Jesus would be feeling a little bit guilty if he ever got to see all the rubbish we create celebrating his birthday.

What triggered my thinking about this is the free 'wrapping paper' included with The Guardian this week.

Well giftwrap, read: printed newspaper, purportedly designed by top creative types but just as easily available on a destop publishing package near you.

However, I can't slam them for trying.

Little things like this do play a part in making the British responsible for the disgusting amount of waste we create during the festive season.

The obligatory 'did you know?' section:

Did you know that over 3 million tonnes of waste is create over the Christmas festive period in the UK alone? That's approximately 350 thousand double decker buses of waste.

83 square km of wrapping paper from the UK will end up in the refuse bin - that’s enough to cover Brighton and Hove.

We throw out half of the sprouts we buy for Christmas lunch without so much as touching them?

Having seen every newspaper around doling out virtuous eco-Christmas tips, here are a few more blatantly obvious ones:

Don't bother wasting plastic with nasty tacky lights outside your house, or failing this at least turn them off past 11pm.
If someone doesn't want/need a present, don't buy them one.
Don't buy sprouts full stop - reduce air miles and methane emissions in one easy step.
Make use of Christmas knitwear gifts and turn down the heating, before returning said unwanted pressies to the shop
Give more immaterial presents that people will actually use, like gift vouchers or holiday IOUs.
Use the Guardian wrapping paper - it doesn't matter that its an old newspaper and has 'Jesus Christ' printed all over it, it's almost chic, really...

More rasta than Radio 4

2007-12-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up and it was Monday, and drizzling - not a good start.

Having been repeatedly instructed that inhaling the news agenda is possibly more important than breathing first thing in the morning, I stumbled over to the radio to get James N up on the Today programme.

But in the place of his deep dulcet tones was someone else.

Someone very distinctively more rasta than Radio 4.

My old non-DAB Sony had decided to wipe out its programmed stations and tune into RJR FM.

I have a clever radio, it turns out.

RJR is a gem of a local radio station, not only for the soothing reggae which takes the pain away from writing up court reports.

The real draw is the DJs who set an example that Radio 1's celebrities need to follow.

They're like chilled out life coaches who spin a bit of reggae in between imparting common sense.

A few of my favourite pearls of wisdom from today:

First thing this (gloomy) morning
If ya got dem negative thoughts on a Monday morning, don’t say nothing, stick a smile on dat face.

Mid evening, on Christmas shopping
We’re headin for a interest rate riiiiiise, when da price of petral and da diesel go up, ya no wha tha means don’cha? The price of everyting goes up.

Don’t buy what you want, buy what you need. Pay the most important things first.

Late night, on Amy Winehouse
Don’t be comin outta de house in no footwer and dat white thing up ya nose, get back to making the music girl.

Chris Moyles' style of negative, self effacing broadcasting is getting a little stale now - a good bit of honest, positive speak makes a nice change - oh, and they actually play music on this frequency too.

RJR is at 98.3FM if you want to check it out, until the next time my radio retunes itself.

Mrs Goggins eat your heart out

2007-11-29T13:07:00.000-08:00

I live in South Kenton, and I wouldn't recommend it.

This afternoon we had a rare bit of time off, so I thought I'd pop over to the local post office to send off a few things.

Braving the tube station tunnel, I cut through fast, passing The Windemere pub.

'Take Courage' is emblazoned across the looming brick walls of this traditional, very local boozer - and for good reason.

Just past the tatty special offers in the minicab office window there's a few small shops.

Post office found - step one of the mission complete.

Inside is a warm and welcoming cave of assorted nic nacs, penny sweets and cornershop items - I like it already because it's everything a post office should be.

Squeezing through the heavily stacked shelves, I head towards the small post window.

There's a queue of three, but I'm happy to wait and peruse the fantastic array of goods on display.

Packets, bubble wrap and sellotape are evident, but littered amongst the usual stationery items are 10 year old Princess Diana postcards, sparkly boxes, portable sewing kits and a mixed selection of nail varnishes.

The star shaped special offer labels, handwritten in marker pen add to the authentic old-school feel.

Even the staff smile corteously and seem genuinely pleased to see me.

I've always loved a good old fashioned local business and this had it all, where I least expected to find it.

The post office in Leamington Spa, where I come from, has been thoroughly commercialised - product placement is rife, with chocolate bars and pen sets lining a long queuing area which Alton Towers would be proud of.

There's even a branch of Clinton Cards which you have to walk through to get out of the place.

Shame on Royal Mail if they succeed in shutting down yet more suburban and rural post offices - they are ripping out the heart of many communities, and destroying the lovely eccentricity that British corner shops do so well.

Letter to Mr Branson

2007-11-27T09:05:00.001-08:00

Dear Richard

Over the past two months, the British nation has been working hard to understand why exactly our government has been pouring our taxes into Northern Rock faster than you can quaff champagne.

I have personally been very committed to finding the right solution to Britain's financial issues and I'm delighted to tell you that I do actually quite approve of Virgin's takeover offer.

However, I would like to request now that you stop taking out patronising, full page 'letters' in national newspapers to publicise your all round greatness.

But there is more. At the heart of my own proposal, I plead you to:

Avoid, under any circumstances, pasting the Virgin logo onto Northern Rock
Stop using expressions like "exciting" "valued" and "respect" which you clearly don't mean
Cease production of your god awful pop - Virgin Cola is simply no challenge for the might of Pepsi/Coca Cola: even Rola Cola's more tasty.

Whilst I appreciate the good you're doing in shouldering an additional burden on the taxpayer by taking the Rock off Gordon's hands, bearing the above points in mind over the challenging months ahead would surely make the transition easier.

Yours sincerely

Frances Hall

Biff up the Biffy...

2007-11-25T01:50:00.000-08:00

...I think that's what the hardcore, bearded fans down at the front were saying.

Couldn't be sure though - we were stuck up in the seated circle area at Biffy Clyro's Brixton Academy gig last Thursday.

Despite the far from perfect seats, managing to book the tickets was an improvement on my usual live music track record though - Biffy are the first live band I've seen in quite a few months.

My last experience involved Preston from the Ordinary Boys, which I'd prefer not to dredge up again.

But back to the Biffy.

I'd never been to Brixton Academy before - first impressions?

The carpet, it was kind of scuzzy, soaked to the floorboards with years of lager spillage and sick.

Maybe I'm just too old for all this, I thought to myself, noticing the nymph like teenage fans milling around the bar, dressed all emo-casual and spilling more Carling into the carpet goop.

Apparently I wasn't the oldest audience member there though - that prize goes to the very tall, very bald man sitting bang in front of me.

I'll not pretend to be a massive groupie of the band, but having missed their visit to Durham a few years ago when I was last at uni, I was keen to see the quietly successful trio from Ayr, especially since Radio 1 has picked up on them.

One thing which struck me, when I managed to sneak a glance around either side of bald man's head was Biffy's inconspicuous stage presence.

If they weren't blasting out such massive, soaring harmonies, Biffy could quite easily be taken for long haired, check shirted roadies.

I was very pleasantly surprised to know and love nearly every song on the set list, which covered tracks from the band's most recent album, Puzzle.

It's clear that the threesome have come a long, long way from Ayr, but there's no sign at any pretension or ego in the performance.

Lead man Simon Neil spent most of the night moshing quietly at his mike, clearly absorbed in the music.

From 'Living is a problem because everything dies,' to a penultimate rendition of 'Machines,' the performance was tight but sincere at the same time.

Grudgingly, I have to thank Mr Bald, who blocked the middle of the stage, but also made me appreciate the beautiful, shimmering fairy light display on stage, silhouetted by his big fat head.

Spot the difference

2007-11-22T14:13:00.000-08:00

One minute I'm squelching through a football pitch in high heels, trying not to get marooned in the mud, the next I'm in a TV studio metres away from two of the country's most talked about politicians.

Such is the beauty of being stuck out in the sticks in Harrow.

I was lucky to be allowed to sneak into the Lib Dem's first online hustings filming this morning, which took place in one of Westminster's TV studios on our Harrow campus.

The final edit will be broadcast over youtube, to help party members select Ming's successor.

I've only met one Lib Dem politician before, Lebit Opik, who dissed me as "David Blunket's daughter," although that's another story...

But Huhne and Clegg certainly came across as jolly nice men, nice ties, well cut suits, and a good selection of soundbites.

I have to be honest though, and say the actual experience of being caught up in the whole process of debate and TV production was the most exciting aspect of the morning.

I realised that what separates politicians from the rest of us is their ability to ping into action as soon as the camera rolls, and deliver a smooth speech with a bit of sincerity.

Clegg and Huhne had a few minutes' direct appeal to the camera, then answered a series of questions from Lib Dem supporters.

Education, education, environment was the general message.

In fact, the opponents struck me as virtually indistinguishable on their agenda and policies.

Both are opposed to Trident; schools investment is imperative; the NHS should be decentralised; politics needs to be more about real people and less about the Westminster old boys network.

They're both down with the kids, with their well slick websites, facebook profiles and youtube
broadcasts.

I grew up with bright yellowy-orange Lib Dem promotional literature piled around the house, thanks to my devoted Lib Dem supporting mother.

So although I'm not hot on the details, it's all blurb I've heard before.

At times, the 'debate' seemed way too friendly; more party political broadcast than a leadership battle.

So, which to choose?

It looks like it's going to be a decision largely based on image and leadership style, and I'll need to listen to a few more debates to make my mind up.

Shame how politics seems to boil down to PR these days.

The party needs a leader fully committed to graft hard at tipping public support over the fabled pivotal point of trust, and to convince voters to actually stick a cross by the Lib Dems on the ballot papers.

Let's just hope that neither Clegg nor Huhne has a drink problem, a wandering eye or bad taste in socks.

Ooh la la, c'est Mardi Noir

2007-11-19T23:48:00.000-08:00

Black's a popular colour in France.

August bank holiday traffic gridlock; September 11th, countless strikes - each branded jours noirs by the French media.

Today, Mardi Noir, marks day six of railway strikes, the price of a kilogram of potatoes rising to €2.20 and severe shortages in raw materials such as steel and fuel which keep the country running.

All because of ongoing strikes.

Since my A-Level French days, I've had a vague notion of the French nation's fondness for les grèves.

French workers put in an average of 38 hours of graft a week, compared to 41.1 in the UK.

With a generous 35 hour working week, and early retirement, the simple facts show that France doesn't work hard enough - for Sarkozy's liking at least.

The President's move to align railway workers' minimum retirement age to 40 years' service, from 37.5 is only the tip of the iceberg of discontent from workers across the nation.

Most workers have already voted with their feet and returned to work, leaving SNCF railway employees amongst the last stubborn strikers, still hanging on six days into their protests.

A few hours a week, and a couple of years' service may seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it looks like long wine fuelled lunches really are to be stamped out by Sarkozy if France is to compete with its workaholic neighbours.

Despite the impending chaos that this strike threatens, Sarkozy needs to stand his ground if he wants to kick off the cultural shift he desires.

If they're not careful though, it won't be long before stress and depression make every day noir, or at least a little more grey.

Vive le slacking, I say.

Some things I found at Speaker's Corner

2007-11-18T14:35:00.000-08:00

Hyde Park was graced with my presence this morning, in honour of our latest features assignment.

Haven't got a clue about what angle I'm going to take yet, but battling through the bitingly cold winds taught me a thing or two, or ten...

1. Ballet pumps are not the best footwear choice for spending a few hours in the park on a frosty November morning.

2. Ballet pumps, a dress and Primark bag are a fantastic decoy for getting all manner of people to speak to you on the premise that you're a ditzy young shopper who's somehow happened to stumble across a hotbed of free speech and debate (ha).

3. Some people have mind widening, enriching and well communicated messages to get across.

4. Others don't seem to have a point of view but are happy to formulate one whilst standing on a shaky little stepladder in full public scrutiny.

5. Not many people seem bothered with the imminent threat of eternal damnation (next year, apparently).

6. The secret to religious conflict and world peace is 1+1=2, apparently - that's it.

7. Hugging as many strangers as you can in a minute can be fun.

8. It's possible to get away with making a stand at Speaker's Corner without actually speaking.

9. Equally, people listen when you sing an incomprehensible message.

10. People listen when you stand on a ladder and incite them to dance on the spot (trust me).

11. Listening to other people's views is kind of like trying on shoes - you don't have to buy them but it's nice to see how they fit.

Oh, and one more thing for the confused speaker in the black raincoat - Heather McCartney Mills is a Geordie, which means that she's from NEWCASTLE, not Scotland. Not Ireland - knowledge is power, didn't you say?

Scones and Sierra Leone

2007-11-17T16:49:00.000-08:00

"Hi love, yes that's fine, I'll pick you up then.

My mum emailed me the other day, followed by this:

"Dad arrived in Freetown at about 10pm and caught a hovercraft which sank!!!"

Slightly worrying information.

My slightly travel-naive father landed in Sierra Leone that very day on an international development aid trip, and had already managed a brush with death in a disease infested river in one of the least developed countries in the world.

True to our fantastic Brit colonial roots, Mum seemed more concerned that his nice new linen suits had shrunk in the river goop.

Whereas when I finally got to speak to the father, he seemed more worried that the Israel v Russia Euro 08 qualifying match had already taken place.

Having double checked on the BBC website and reassured him that it was definitely, definitely on Saturday, I then checked to see what news of the hovercraft malfunction had made it online.

Sure enough, the sinking episode was online at Sierra Leone's very own Awareness Times site.

Awareness Times ain't no Guardian online.

I ploughed through the one sentence paragraphs and reeled at the thought of what we've been learning in online journalism about punchy, one point writing.

Writing style is certainly comprehensive, full to the brim with slightly irrelevant detail which nevertheless is totally informative and completely politically correct.

Archaic though it was, it struck me that the Dickensian/19th century Times style was in use for a reason.

As the name of the website suggests, the site seems to be serving the purpose of being one of a few sources of online news for Sierra Leone.

Sentences such as: "There is an old adage that God has rare days on which he creates a woman who has the dual qualities of being beautiful and brainy," feature fairly frequently - not very impressive.

However, I wouldn't have found anything online about the hovercraft incident had it not been for SLN.

I'll be checking back to see if the site develops as the country gets back on its feet.

Meanwhile, back in rural Warwickshire, Napton village hall hosts its annual christmas fair with piles of tea, scones, scented soaps and unwanted toys - the joys of Western gluttony.

Fat soldiers

2007-11-13T14:06:00.000-08:00

Around 16% of American army personnel are overweight.

Obesity is the biggest reason for the discharge of soldiers, and the forces are struggling to recruit fit and lean youths.

States are using waivers to allow applicants who fail medicals to sign up.

Anyone else find these little publicised facts slighty disturbing?

Maybe we should just sit and wait for the USA to eat its way out of Iraq.

The ghost of Zoe Ball

2007-11-13T04:38:00.000-08:00

Ok so she's not dead (yet), but the minor celebrity that is Zoe Ball has been popping up everywhere lately, since I wrote about her appearance in Nintendo's ad campaign.

I can't pinpoint exactly what it is about the woman which irritates me - her acid blonde hair maybe?

Possibly it's related to my early teenagerhood, something which made me subconsciously link Ball to a deeply disturbing event?

Or is it just her permanently perky little face?

I know I'm not alone in my irrational celebrity hate - many of my friends feel the same about Zoe's close friend Sara Cox - who I find perfectly amenable.

Sara's welcome round mine for a brew and a biscuit anytime, but if Zoe were to even step over the doorstep, I may be liable to slam the door in her face.

I've just realised I sound exactly like the grumpy old man from The Fast Show, famous for getting het up about completely improbable situations.

But it has made me wonder about the huge celebrity magazine market, with publications like Heat, Look, Now and the like relying on two main selling points:

1) Our obsession with being thin (and fat, and then thin again...)

2) Our love/hate relationships with celebrities.

Look at Victoria Posh Beckham for instance, who's rarely off magazine covers and who annoys me only a little less than Zoe.

Skeletal and adored/detested in equal measures - need I say more?

Why the hell do we think we have the right to judge celebrities, who despite living slightly bizarre lives, are just human beings after all?

It's something I've bemoaned, but I keep on coming back to read the gossip trash again and again, like a naughty child faced with a box of chocolates.

But don't worry Zoe, you stick to Strictly Come Dancing or whatever you're up to now, I'll stick to bitching about you in Heat, and hopefully we'll never cross paths.

Don't section me, but...

2007-11-11T16:10:00.000-08:00

Walking through the park lately, I've been breaking some social taboos.

Let me clarify that immediately.

The problem is Russell Brand and his weekly Radio 2 show podcast.

Brand has had me in hysterics on my way into uni with his absurdisms - I couldn't believe the dubious looks that dog walkers and elderly bench-sitters were casting my way - aren't people allowed to laugh anymore?

Something he mentioned in last week's broadcast really stopped me and my laughter in its tracks.

On being complimented by Morrissey for his new form of "idiosyncratic sanity," Brand responded:

"You are a new archetype...what that (makes) me think is that you must be truthful to yourself and celebrate what you are and then the mundane can become heroic; the seemingly weak can become heroic."

An apt point as we welcome yet another vacuous X-Factor series to our screens.

What it made me think of immediately, was how at the moment the press seem to be rehashing, twisting and trying to imitate old news stories.

Bear with me here.

Plato said that mimesis, what the Greeks saw as representation through imitation, was only the job of a philosopher, to tell the truth.

Theatre and poetry were dirty words for Plato, having the power to lead astray his Republic through scheming rhetoric.

He probably would have said the same about The Sun today - and who am I to argue with an ancient Greek philosopher?

Brand and Plato may have had a few issues if they ever met.

If, like Plato, you're dismissing art as a downright lie because it represents something other than the paint or whatever that's created it, then you're ignoring our culture, much of our freedom of speech, and a lot more.

Brand distracted me with his "new archetype" comment because so much of what we recognise as our culture, media, civilisation, is a version of something which has come before.

But I do think that Plato had something in going here - take the Madeline McCann case for example.

Maddie goes missing, Maddie may have been buried nearby the crime scene, Maddie still missing, Maddie's parents still distraught, Madeline's parents return home again, daughter still missing.

Most papers are rehashing the same cycle of stories over and over again; the Portuguese media reacting to what the Brits are ranting about; the Mail and allies reflecting back what's being said over there.

So where's the originality here, where's the new archetypal journalist, inspired by good journalism which has come before, but able to chase some leads and get to the bottom of the story?

Obviously, there might just be no neat answer and reportable conclusion to Maddie's disappearance.

But surely, instead of skating around the same old issues and churning them out on a daily basis, the papers could find a new development or move on to other equally newsworthy issues.

This form of story stretching and speculation is a form of rhetoric for the large proportion of the public who take the Mail's word as gospel (god help us).

Just a (probably unoriginal) thought.

TTFN HTML

2007-11-08T11:10:00.000-08:00

Red eyes and sore fingers, that's me at the moment, having finally handed in my website project, so this is going to be a short post for a change.

Kenton paper update: no news on the Australian barmaid with amazing assets. To answer the questions I've been asked regarding the woman's teaspoon balancing prowess, I believe ice was used.

Nintendo geek speak: admittedly, Zoe Ball and her dad don't give such a bad performance in the new DS ad, but I still object to hers being pink and his a very macho silver grey.

Stephen Fry: still love him. His technology column continues, although it's been pushed to the back pages.

Everyone should take a look in Saturday's Guardian Weekend Mag and pay homage.

California: no longer burning, as far as I know (what a great journalist I'm going to make...)

But Warwickshire is.

It'll be interesting to see how my former workie paper, The Leamington Courier and the rest of the local press are reporting the story when I go home this weekend.

WAGs: still shopping, getting manicures and the occasional GCSE.

But wannabe WAGs of the future better watch out, cause Gordon's plans announced in the Queen's speech mean that there's no option to drop out of school at 16 to pursue a career in shopping and housewifery.

But there's always beauty therapy NVQs.

Pretty, shiny things: I've had to turn a blind eye to the superficial as the hard reality of studenthood (poverty) starts to dawn on me.

Asos and DailyCandy seem to have cottoned onto this and are sending me regular email updates of all the beautiful accessories in the world that everyone else's wearing.

I will resist.

Facebook apps: have been tempting me greatly.

I'm a hypocrite, I admit it.

In the past week I've posted a virtual remembrance poppy, installed a christmas countdown tree which plays 'jingle bells,' and purchased some gorgeous designer handbags.

The absurdity of all this only strikes me as I type this list out.

And there you go, I've managed to recycle old news with a pinch of fresh speculation - I'm learning a lot from the media at the moment.

Epiphany at Kenton tube

2007-11-04T10:24:00.000-08:00

An Australian barmaid has been fined by a court for attempting to hang spoons off her nipples.

The woman was also "observed to crush a can between her buttocks."

Thanks to Australian Times ('news for Aussies living in London') I know this, and more Oz-specific news of which I would have been blissfully unaware, had I not picked up a copy of this skinny expat daily.

But I didn't stop there.

Once I spotted the Oz Times, I also discovered New Zealand Times ('news for Kiwis living in London'), The New Zimbabwe ('the biggest name in Southern African news') and The South African (no description needed.)

A whole underground world of international tabloids that I'd seen but never noticed before opened up to me, right outside Kenton tube station.

Did you know that BA have stopped flights from Harare, Zimbabwe, due to the extreme losses triggered by the country's economic collapse?

Or that a New Zealand company has invented a possible cure for diabetes?

Sometimes it's good to get a different perspective of the news.

The silent marathon

2007-11-01T06:24:00.000-07:00

If you've run a marathon and are anything like me, the above should strike cold fear down your spine.

26.2 miles is a long, long way to go without a bit of music to ease the boredom and sheer pain.

So I was shocked to read the International Herald Tribune's report that USA Track & Field, the national governing body for running, has banned the use of ipods and other portable audio players.

According to USA Track and Field, this is "basically an insurance issue," as the risk of injuries from runners too absorbed in their Beyonce or Dvorak to avoid a collision or trip is too high.

Old guard marathon runners are said to have cheered the decision, and marathon runners at several high profile events have had their headphones confiscated at the start line to enforce the silence.

Someone needs to remind these purists that 65% of American adults are overweight or obese.

Hello?

That's around 119 million people, who could do with getting off their arses and into the park for some serious jogging.

I can't imagine ipod-free races over here in the UK, in the past 5 years they have become indespensable to most recreational runners.

It's all very well mocking the fat American stereotype but let's not forget that 23% of British adults are so obese that their health is at serious risk.

But marathons and other running events have surged in popularity here and in the USA in recent years, no longer being closed off to the pros and hardcore fitness elite.

This success is something both the US and British governments need to promote - it's unacceptable to marginalise novices motivated enough to get out there and run.

LifeLite

2007-10-31T06:22:00.000-07:00

Pretty Blonde Woman with a cute elfin bob walks down the street.

Her outfit is inoffensively stylish.

She waits for the bus, meets friends for coffee, smiles and bounces through the suburbs before going to bed, probably at a decent time to get her full eight hours.

All with a pretty pastel pink Nintendo DS in hand.

This advert has been irritating me for a while now, so today's Guardian article on the DS Lite caught my eye.

Zoe Ball has been recruited to promote a series of new lifestyle games for the console, specifically targeted at women.

As if the fluffy casing wasn't enough, new game 'Face Training' will guide users through a sequence of facial yoga exercises (caused by trying to play Mario Kart on the teeny tiny screen?)

Nintendo's new generation Gameboy, the DS was launched two years ago and over 4m have been sold in the UK , fuelled by the success of the Wii which has blown open the interactive games market.

Women, apparently, own the majority of the handsets the UK.

Not one of my friends to my knowledge owns one - in fact, I'd bet that they'd assume a DS Lite was a low-calorie chocolate bar over a gaming console.

My lack of tolerance for this kind of pretty pastel nonsense is probably obvious and if Nintendo continue shifting Lites at the rate they have been, there's really no point in me ranting about this stereotyped marketing blurb - it obviously works.

But please, give us some credit - a TV ad with more substance than the Lite's candyfloss pink packaging wouldn't go amiss, even if it does feature Zoe Ball.

I heart Stephen Fry

2007-10-29T13:29:00.000-07:00

Firstly, I have to apologise for the use of 'heart' in the title.

However, getting hold of an "I heart Stephen Fry" car sticker (with a big red heart, not the word) would, sadly, make my day and possibly even the whole month.

The ingeniously witty, ascerbic and dapper Fry has just snagged a column in the Guardian Weekend magazine.

By chance, I picked up a copy of this on the tube the day after it came out - good karma floating back round I think, after a morning Making.A.Difference (see Saturday's blog).

But I digress way too far, and the whole point of this post was to highlight the importance of getting to the point.

What gets me about Mr Fry is that he meanders through a few seemingly eclectic thoughts, whilst still managing to get perfectly and concisely to the point.

Bam, before you know it, he's pinpointed exactly what he set out to express.

Fry's theme in his Guardian mag residency is technology, and he sets about making it acessible and engaging with aplomb.

In a page of text, readers are guided through the history of personal computers, and gently introduced to the importance of interfaces and functionality.

Best of all though was his depiction of the style over substance debate:

"When you use a device every day, you cannot help, as a human being, but have an emotional relationship with it.

"It's true of cars and cookers, and it's true of computers. It's true of office blocks and houses, and it's true of mobiles and satnavs.

"A grey block is not good enough, clunky and ugly is not good enough."

With practise I can only hope to be as stylish in my journalism and still pack in enough substance - style, don't you know, "c'est le truc."

What they saved from the fire

2007-10-27T14:42:00.000-07:00

Found this great photogallery on the Time site whilst doing research for my photojournalism site, brings a more human slant to the California wildfires, away from the celeb ranches and firefighting shots.

Face paint karma

2007-10-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

I've just spent the most delightful morning decorating biscuits, beating a lovely (but slightly insane) homeless guy at Connect 4 and having my face painted.

The best Saturday morning I've had in a long time, and all in the name of Make a Difference Day.

Admittedly, I wouldn't have wandered into an east London church on the off chance of a board game and a brew, if my friend Becci hadn't organised the coffee morning.

In fact, to be honest I didn't have a clue Make a Difference Day was today or that it existed.

A small but cosy affair, the church hall near Stratford had the requisite tea and coffee on tap, coloured balloons, information stand and the like.

But everyone was also encouraged to help make a 'blanket of love', and a face painting area - just to entertain the kids, you see.

Becci and her colleages, working for London Home Office Social Cohesion Unit do an amazing job organising all kinds of events like this, all the time.

Coming away from this one made me realise that it's all too easy to ignore the plethora of coffee mornings, forums, intergenerational and multifaith dates happening on our doorsteps.

Perhaps it's because we simply don't read the signs.

Admittedly, I ignore them most of the time because I'm too self absorbed with uni, friends and other things going on in my life.

Cliched maybe, but I definitely come away from these events feeling like I've gained a lot from meeting new and different people and possibly even given something the other way too.

So, I'm trying to keep up the volunteering - next up in the calendar, Napton Christmas fair back home in Warwickshire.

I've valiantly offered to be in charge of the mulled wine stall - I'm nice like that... Any volunteers?

Paradise burning

2007-10-26T06:12:00.000-07:00

Flames are still licking away at southern California - apocalyptic images of the wildfires are splashed across today’s papers.

There’s monochrome shots of a solemn looking Bush; lone victims with bundles of a few snatched belongings and Nasa satellite images of swirling black clouds, swelling over the state and far beyond.

Firefighters are still trying to quell the raging flames which have forced up to a million residents from their homes.

Even Britney’s “real scared” about the consequences of the blaze.

In contrast with these disastrous photographs, the most recent press coverage has started to paint a slightly sceptical picture of the devastation.

The Independent notes: ‘As homes burn, the evacuees of San Diego lap up the good life,” news which emerged in yesterday’s Radio 4 Today show.

Fire evacuees sheltering in San Diego’s American football stadium seem to be enjoying five star treatment including yoga sessions, acupuncture, a broad international food menu, even Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

Generous local volunteers reportedly outnumbered the 9000 victims at times.

By Wednesday afternoon officials put a stop to the growing piles of donated food, clothing and medicines – by posting warning notices requesting no more gifts.

All a disturbing contrast to the nightmarish situation at the New Orleans Superdome, following Hurricane Katrina.

Many Californians are reported to have retreated to hotels and even the casinos of Las Vegas, until the fires are under control.

Down further south in 2005, rumours of rape, theft and beatings abounded around the packed, dirty stadium.

Interesting how it takes a disaster to polarise the vast social differences across the 'United' States of America.

Bad news, good PR

2007-10-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

So, apparently, WAGs are brainier than their footballing men.

This story is in the Independent, Daily Mail, in fact all across the British media today - a prime example of a well angled press release.

Well done Learning and Skills Council for promoting GCSEs under the lip glossed, fake tanned veneer of glam WAGs.

Victoria, Cheryl, Carly and the like are most often papped strutting between exclusive boutiques, but apparently their good qualifications make them ideal role models for schoolgirls.

According to the Mail's interpretation (or poorly disguised re-write), women like Colleen McLoughlin, Abby Clancy and Cheryl Cole aren't merely "airheads who enjoy spending their husbands' enormous wages in expensive boutiques."

Colleen, for instance, has 10 GCSEs including 4 A grades, whereas Jermain Defoe's fiancee has 3 A-Levels.

But where is the most notorious 'it' WAG, Posh?

Well, Mrs Beckham and a few of her girlfriends would be classed as 'neet' (not in education, employment, or training) - a high priority group for the government.

It'd be stupid to dismiss press coverage like this as superficial - of course there's nothing better than a few glamorous women to make education policy readable.

But with government targets in place to upskill our workforce by 2020 and dramatically change the way we take up life long learning, it might just be time that coverage of issues like this gets more serious.

Magpie eyes

2007-10-20T10:27:00.001-07:00

I like to think I'm a reasonably intelligent, self aware, etc... woman.

But in a swish of a changing room curtain, or the click of a display cabinet, my mind will switch from rational to delusional.

All because of something pretty.

It doesn't have to sparkle, radiate opulent hues or outrageous design, it just has to be beautiful.

I realise this isn't a very specific criteria, but it really can extend to anything - from the obvious palpitation-inducing glittery enclave that is Accessorize, to a spray painted graffiti signature on a dirty lamppost.

Accepting this shallow facet of my character sparked a few thoughts about beauty and the Internet.

Online, you see, we have hedonism at our fingertips.

So, rather than waiting for something stunning to catch my eye, I can cast a wide net out to the vast Internet and come back with a treasure trove of 'things' to satisfy my magpie eye.

All this without leaving the house, or even my chair.

Never mind palpitations, it's enough to leave me arthritic and RSI-ridden after hours crouched over the keyboard, nose pressed to the monitor.

A captivating blog called poppytalk first got me thinking about this.

What I liked about this site was its simplicity and complexity all rolled into one delightful package.

"poppy talk is a Canadian design blog collecting inspiration and promoting emerging design talent."

That's all the description needed for the blog, which is a noticeboard of sorts, sprinkled with objects of loveliness, from bold witty slogan prints, to delicate little bird necklaces.

Clicking onto delightfulblogs.com, it seems that there's an emerging movement of design-focused blogs, all set on tantalising readers by combining mouthwatering graphics with appealing content.

This site's tag line, "cutting through the blog smog" captures the appeal of distinctive but simple sites dedicated to showcasing lovely things from all spectrums of the Internet.

However, my magpie eye isn't limited to this exclusive blog set.

A recent discovery is DailyCandy - an online lifestyle magazine more temptingly packaged than a box of artisan chocolates.

DailyCandy's vivid watercolour graphics lure my greedy eyes through the writing - satisfying gems of beauty, health and travel comment.

Talking of gems, asos.com is a fashion shopping site which never fails to disappoint.

Moving on from its slightly scummy cheap-celeb-a-like origins, a quick fix of asos can cure an empty wardrobe or even just a lack of fashion inspiration - all at sub-Topshop prices.

This might read as a disjointed run through a few eye-catching websites, but then again I think that's the nature of captivating beauty, the Internet being ephemeral as it is.

I could start to define beauty, deconstruct the notion of hedonism and debate the merits of Epicurus.

Unnecessary.

Online beauty-spotting is like window shopping or people watching but with layer upon layer of window displays - a labyrinthine gallery of loveliness.

And great for when you can't be bothered to change out of your pyjamas and leave the house.

Pimp MyFaceSpace

2007-10-18T09:37:00.000-07:00

In the past month I've received a red rose and a giraffe; been bitten by zombies and poked to the point of bleeding - virtually, of course.

I'm sure that it's obvious that this has all taken place via Facebook.

Facebook - admittedly, not the most original of blog topics, given the volume of column inches devoted to discussing the social networking website du jour.

But amidst all the pirate-poking and friend tagging, it seems that many users are skipping the small print and giving away more than just the odd 'poke'.

Pimped up pink glittery profiles Facebook is not - unlike its shabby cousin MySpace.

Personally, Facebook's clear uncluttered layout initially drew me to the site and maximised its usability.

But the 'Book' has evolved since its 2004 launch as a Havard-exclusive online community.

Sophisticated Application Programming Interfaces (APIs) allowed Facebook to expand its platform space, which third-party developers can use.

API software provides information which enables different programmes to interact.

Thus, we are all able to send Mortimer the teddy bear around the world, or accurately predict our personal stripper names - and make them sparkle in pink.

So, aside from clogged up bandwidth what's in all of this for Facebook?

Info-syphoning seems to be the answer.

Caught by the prospect of international Boggle, it's easy to scroll past the terms of use tick boxes and go straight to 'app' installation.

But in return for a free round of digital 'beers', the developer wants to get to know you.

Your photos, relationship status, mobile number and whatever other profile information is on display can feed straight through to third party developers.

All in all, a pretty effective market research tool for both the Book and developers.

So should icon loving Facebookers be worried that their lives are being used as web currency?

Facebook justifies information sharing as interest targeted marketing on adverts that would be on the site regardless.

A fair point, especially considering the amount of profile information already being circulated by other sites such as Google.

The extent to which Facebook trades our details is not necessarily a cause for concern just yet, but an interesting insight into information as a virtual commodity.

Business blogger Donna Bogatin makes a crucial point about Google's email service:

"Gmail is free to use, but its users are actually selling themselves cheap.
Google furthers its monetization of the world’s information by acquiring, cost-free, a treasure trove of personal and business communications
data from its users."

The same applies to Facebook, but the biggest disappointment for me is application overkill which clutters profiles and gets in the way of simple interaction.

Of course, social networking is no longer a straightforward exchange of text - it's words and pictures; videos and animation; comments, tags and links endlessly mashed up and interssected.

Grudglingly, it has to be said that this explosion of multi platform interaction is central to our new generation internet, Web 2.0, whatever the consequences.

The 2.0 movement is supposedly under the collective rule of each individual net user.

Frivolous and trashy Facebook apps have an audience, but for the moment at least, it seems that users are not ruling the net just yet.

Old beginnings, new intentions

2007-10-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

I'm not starting right from the beginning, I have to admit.

As journalists in the making, we've been reminded by tutors of the ever-increasing importance of blogging in the media, and have been gently instructed to get our own pages up and running.

My first blog from this site was nearly a year ago - an optimistic but lone attempt to get a piece of this web action.

Good intentions obstructed by a full time job, friends and many other bad excuses.

However, I think that the desire to blog on is still there, somewhere.

Keeping a regular travel blog for most of last year was an unexpectedly satisfying habit, and a commitment which definitely forced me to think about what I was writing and how to make my words work better together.

A year on, I'm back to studenthood and it feels alarmingly familiar yet equally a whole new experience.

Today, for instance, I've absorbed the basics of web page design, realised the huge implications of Web 2.0 and the future of the net, found an excellent blog entitled 'My Boyfriend is a Twat,' not to mention smashing a few people over the head with a (plastic) bottle in my first Jiu Jitsu session.

So, a few weeks along I'm hanging on in there, waiting to see what sense I can make of this inter-outer-nether-ether ending net.