Hotel Rooms

I've stayed in some of the best, I've stayed in some of the worst. Mostly I've stayed in the middling sort.

However, they all present challenges, some unique, many common to them all.

One almost ubiquitous challenge is figuring out the lights. This can be especially problematic in the larger "chain" hotels, and, in my experience, the more expensive the chain, the more puzzling the lights. In whose perverse brain were these challenges devised? And furthermore, which bright spark decided to implement them?

There you are, the weary traveller, far from home, you have done the check-in thing, the lift thing, the corridor thing, and the key-card thing.

Now for the light thing.

You can tell immediately if a hotel is having a laugh if, even though it's daytime, they've closed the blackout curtains. So in the absence of prior knowledge, you jam the door open with your suitcase so you can find the slot thingy you have to plunge your key-card into to activate the electrical supply.

Now what happens? Why, the lights go on of course. In this illuminated interval, you do the unpacking thing, and the checking that the TV works thing. You fill the nifty little kettle and turn it on so you can have a "nice cup of tea" once you've put your things away. (And that's another irritation. Hotel chains seem to believe that their guests' overwhelming motive for staying with them is to steal hangers. So another bright spark invented the un-stealable hanger, the only removable part of which has no hook. How bloody insulting.)

Returning to the lights, it can take many hours to work out the exact sequence of switching before you arrive at the situation where, when you eventually get into bed, you can turn all the lights off from there.

Before bed, however, you have one more thing to do: hide the Gideon Bible so that, preferably, it is not found until the hotel is subject to archaeological excavation some time in the distant future. There are rules for this. One must not damage the Bible, nor place it somewhere where it might be damaged. Purely out of respect for any book, I would add. This is not as easy as you may think. The best hiding-place I have yet to use was placing one, spine to wall, in the narrow slot between the safe the wardrobe wall. Hiding in plain sight.

And with that accomplished, one retires for the night, reflecting on whether it is possible to find a more uninspiring dinner than that so recently consumed in one's business trip singularity.

The Right to Bear Arms

As we all indulge in collective outrage over the dreadful events in Aurora, Colorado, many of us reflect on the wisdom or foolishness of the Second Amendment to the United States constitution which codifies the right of its citizens to "keep and bear arms". It is not a lengthy amendment, and here it is, in full:

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

Though so brief there have probably been many hundreds of thousands of words of commentary - both scholarly and otherwise - written about these few.

I do not claim to have made any real study of these many works, nor of the historical context, but here are my thoughts.

The first words are key, and are easy to understand in the historical and political setting in which they were framed. It was felt, with some justification, that liberty from despotism and defense against attack by foreign states, required an effective and collective response by a free citizenry, appropriately armed and regulated, at least for the duration of the threat.

The second amendment itself probably had its roots in the English Bill of Rights (1689), which restored many long standing rights to the English after the depredations of Charles I, and particularly of James II. The English Bill of Rights was saying, in effect, why should arms only be borne by the ruling class? Why indeed?

But whatever the intentions of the lawmakers may have been, either in England or the United States, they surely did not include the right of individuals to keep an arsenal capable of equipping a whole platoon, nor to deploy such an arsenal in murderous mass attacks. Many well-intended laws have proved to have ghastly unintended consequences. Clearly something must be done. Repeal the amendment entirely? Re-draft it? Is such a law needed in a modern democracy? Trouble is, democracy is a frail and ill-defined thing and easily destroyed without vigilance and constant checks and balances. By definition, vigilance must be the job of the people, not the ruling class. A working democracy depends upon this vigilance being performed through effective opposition political parties and by a trades union movement willing and able to defend the working person.

It is this which would make second amendments and the like surplus to requirements and which, in turn, would open the door to effective gun laws, both in the United States and elsewhere.

British Journalism has some proud and decent history after all

This is obituary is from The Graphic, and reading it is worth a few minutes' time. The Graphic was a reforming newspaper and took as its principles the employment of the very best young artists and writers and the covering of news, not only of the doings and pleasures of the mighty, but of the distress and pain of the many.

A brave and successful undertaking by all involved, and not least by William Luson Thomas, its founder.

You Can Bank On It

Whatever the real cause of the NatWest computing system debacle, the vulnerability of us all to the weakness of money has been exposed. The fluidity crisis - for that is what it is - is now affecting many who are not customers of the affected banks in the RBS group.

The most common problem is probably that of employees of firms which run current accounts at NatWest out of which wages are paid. And what if you are a supplier waiting on a payment from such a firm? A little thought will bring to mind many other everyday types of transaction dependent on a properly operating current account clearing system.  It's easy to imagine the knock-on effects and how terrifyingly quickly they could spread through all our lives. We, like capitalism itself, depend on money, not just the possession of it but the movement of it.

At the heart of capitalism is the movement of money, not the possession of it.

In both co-operative and non co-operative societies, essential things have non-derivative true value. There are not many of these. Food, potable water, adequate clothing and shelter. Then there are what might be called the first derivatives such as land for farming or hunting. In co-operative societies, these first derivatives are held in common ownership for the benefit of all.

Most of us live in non co-operative societies. We have to pursue our lives and seek our wellbeing amid a turmoil of derivatives. And derivatives of derivatives. The concept of value has become individualised, not societal. We "value" things for the comfort or power or status they bring us, rather than for any intrinsic true worth.

When things go wrong, however, most people rapidly encounter their relationship with the essentials, not the derivatives. How to buy enough food, how to pay the rent, how to stay warm and dry. And these were the concerns reflected in the vox-pops on the NatWest news reports.

It would be interesting if people now began to ask the fundamental question, "what is money?"

Perhaps the most radical question of all.

Stolen Day

Sometimes lovely things happen. And when you don't expect them, they are even lovelier.

On Monday we drove back to Steeple Langford in the vain hope of finding a pair of lost glasses. As some kind soul had found and handed them in at the local pub, we had the rest of the day to ourselves, rather than having to spend it at the opticians and dealing with an insurance claim.

The sun was shining and it was warm. So we strolled through the village and out the other side into the delightful Wiltshire countryside.

Crossing a field via a footpath, we ended up in a secluded meadow by one of the branches of the River Wylye and lay watching the white clouds melt in the sun.

The Side Show

We are being "treated" to a side show which is known as the Leveson Enquiry. For many weeks now we have been invited to marvel at what is constantly described as a "probing" or "subtle" or (posh word) "forensic" examination by Robert Jay with occasional interjectory enquiries by Leveson himself when he rouses from inevitable sleep. Indeed the endeavour to remain in any useful state of consciousness for anyone watching is challenging.

Occasional excitement is provided. But it comes without warning and one needs to remain in a state of alertness simply not possible for anyone requiring normal levels of stimulation. One can only marvel at the ranks of sometimes recognisable journalists and at their ability to stay awake and even look busy. What can they really be occupying their minds with?

Of course, any sensible person knows what has really transpired between the politicians and the most powerful section of the print press over the last several decades. There's simply nothing to be learned. The thing to fear from the outcome is another sort of Dangerous Dogs Act: benign in conception, disastrous and ineffectual in practice.

But at the moment, the Leveson Enquiry is a side show. Not in itself watchable, but ably distilled for us by the media. We may take pleasure in the apparent discomfiture of our despised politicians as they take the witness stand, but this only adds to the effectiveness of the enquiry as a side show and a distraction from the ghastliness that is actually happening.

Down In the Mosh Pit

I learned something new today: the word "mosh". It, of course, appeared first to my eyes in the preview descriptions of the London Olympic Opening Ceremony.

Like many typically British cynics, I began to have naughty, satirical thoughts. "So this (harumph) is how we are going to be presented to the world, is it? Like we all live in a rural idyll, defer to the local lord of the manor and chew straws in idle moments? An opportunity lost after the fawning jubilee for a chance to celebrate this country's people and achievements. What! No mention of Britain's outstanding contributions in science, the arts and in social justice? (Harumph again)"

I have been dreading this opening ceremony for many months. As its director, Danny Boyle, wisely reflects, "failure is built in". So for him to undertake this is evidence of courage. But the really interesting point is: why should failure be "built in"? Why should this be so? It is, of course, because if there's one thing the British like doing, it's Moaning. And the Olympics have certainly given us an unparalleled opportunity to Moan. Moan about the cost. Moan about the disruption. Moan about the ticket allocations. And now, moan about the Opening Ceremony.

Perhaps this preview is an attempt at expectation-management. Or maybe, more accurately, moan-management. "Let's tell them now so we can get all the moaning over with before the Big Day." This is so intelligent, that it can't be true (and that's a subtle moan in itself).

As a matter of fact, I hope to end up enjoying and being proud of the Opening Ceremony, especially after the debacle that was the Jubilee River Pageant. I'm sure that once the Games begin, there will be plenty to Moan About.

I can at least rely on seeing one thing I have never seen before - a mosh pit.