As a journalist, I'm used to dealing with my fair share of disagreement and confrontation. I don't like it, but I take it as part of my job. Receiving complaints about your own work serves to make you a better journalist - only if you know you have done the best possible job, been thorough and accurate, and your work is important to the local community, can you confidently defend yourself against complaints.
Unfortunately, sometimes it does not matter how well you write, nor how good your intentions are. Some people are simply determined to find fault; to see you in the same way they see a ruthless, uncaring hack from a national tabloid. Despite the fact that local papers are clearly different in their approach, their tone and their coverage, there is sometimes nothing you can do to change people's fear of - and even anger at - journalists.
This week provided a prime example in our office. There are just two of us working on a weekly paper covering a very large area. In recent months, we have been covering a story about changes to the way one of our local high schools is run. This week, my colleague had arranged to go up to the school and speak to the headteacher for an update on the progress, so we could keep the community informed.
When she got there, the headteacher had called in her deputy head, the chairman of governors and the guy in charge of the school's business contacts. My colleague sat down ready to hear about the school's progress - and was immediately subjected to what can only be described as a tirade of abuse.
The staff accused the newspaper of having grudge against their school. They said we worked actively to try to discredit the school and to promote the three others in our district instead. My colleague - who has run the office for the past two years - pointed out that, due to the restrictions on resources now facing all newspapers, the schools which are best at promoting themselves will be the ones which are most frequently featured in any publication. It's a shame, but journalists simply don't have the time any more to be able to call or visit every school every week and ask if they have anything interesting happening. We rely on the schools keeping us informed - by telling us of individual stories, or even just sending us their newsletters or magazines so we can pick out anything of interest.
However, this was, in the view of this particular high school, simply a cover-up. The real reason was clearly that we had set out to ruin them - and they had proof. They claimed someone "close to the school" had been in our office and overheard a conversation about where in the newspaper we would put a particular article about the school's success - ending with us saying we would bury it as close to the back as possible.
There are two problems with the school's story here. Firstly, it's absolutely not true. That conversation never took place because we would never say that about any school, and if we were ever to have such a discussion about anything we would certainly wait until there was nobody else in the office. Secondly - and most ridiculously - the article in question appeared on the front page. When my colleague pointed out this inconsistency, she was shouted down with more cries of bias and agenda.
At one stage, my colleague said she was not prepared to be bullied when she had set out in the hope of writing a positive, informative story, and she intended to leave. The headteacher's response? "Now, that wouldn't be very productive, would it?" I wonder how productive she thought the meeting had been so far.
Through the whole discussion, the newspaper was accused of bias, of having an agenda against the school, of only ever printing negative stories about the school while printing positive stories about all its competitors (aside - since when did schools turn into businesses?). At one stage, the deputy head said: "I find your newspaper very woolly, actually. I'm an English teacher and it's very badly written."
The meeting lasted an hour and a half, most of which involved my colleague trying desperately to defend the newspaper against a barrage of hatred while also hoping they might listen to her advice about promoting themselves more effectively. Eventually, she escaped and almost ran back to the office.
The whole thing completely baffles me. We wanted to do a good story in consultation with the school and the headteacher therefore invited us to come up for a chat. We were greeted by abuse, criticism and completely irrational allegations. What on earth did they think it would achieve?
The most ridiculous part about it is this was the second time they had done it to us. Last time, we had run a story about the school potentially being merged with another school nearby. The story was based on a press release from the local authority which said in plain English the merger was a possibility and we had confirmation from a local councillor, who was also a governor at the school. It had been run by several other newspapers nearby before we went to print and, naturally, we included comments from the school - which were so vague as to be absolutely useless.
Following publication, my colleague was summoned to the headteacher's office where she was met by the head and about six other members of staff and governors. She was told exactly how wrong the story was, despite her attempts to explain the laws of journalism in relation to printing information from local authorities. Having invited her up initially on the pretext of trying to improve links between the school and the newspaper, they kept her there to endure their anger for four hours.
The upshot of these two meetings? We will continue doing exactly what we have been doing up to now - with one major difference. We will print whatever we have, about any school, based on its news value. We will continue to publish stories which are important to the community and act responsibly in our positions.
We will not, however, be visiting Unnamed High School again. Ever. Congratulations, Ms B.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Apologies for absence
Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been unable to upload anything to the blog for a while.
However, things appear to be back on track now and I hope to resume normal service as soon as possible.
Please keep reading!
However, things appear to be back on track now and I hope to resume normal service as soon as possible.
Please keep reading!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Back to the streets for strikers
Well, it's all over.
As of this week, bin collections in the Leeds City Council area will - hopefully - be getting back to normal. Great news for all residents, who can expect an end to the piles of rubbish on the city's streets.
And great news for the refuse collectors who will have a few weeks of regular pay before Christmas. They may not all be happy about the terms of their return to work, but with more than two-thirds voting in favour of accepting the council's offer, residents can keep their fingers crossed things will not deteriorate again.
Information on what the agreement means in terms of bin collections is available via the council's website. Apart from some slightly conflicting information released over the past 11 weeks, I have to say the bin strike has had little impact on me. My street has not had the dozens of bin bags spilling their contents onto the floor that have been seen elsewhere. We've had no rats (unless you count the one dead one the cats left in the middle of the floor a couple of weeks ago, but given that they also deposited what looked like the remains of a pigeon in the same spot, I'm not putting that down to bin strikes). I tended to side with the strikers anyway, which perhaps increased my willingness to make a few adaptations during the strike action.
But what struck me the most was what I found out about the attitudes of some residents to waste and recycling. After my green recycling bin filled up, I made several trips to the local tip in Harehills. I spotted quite a few other people doing the same, dropping off cardboard and tins and old newspapers in the clearly-labelled "green bin waste" skips.
The incredible thing was the number of people who simply empties whatever was in the back of their cars into the nearest skip, not even looking at the signs showing what kind of waste went where. During the busiest periods, such as Sunday afternoons, there were council employees on hand to clear full skips and direct people to the correct skip. Despite this, I saw someone pulling up, dragging a three-piece suite out of their van and chucking it into the "green bin waste" skip while a frustrated yellow-jacketed man watched in amazement. He called to them to throw the furniture into a different pile, but by then there were only a couple of cushions left. Cue two yellow jackets half-climbing into a skip to retrieve the sofas as, supervision being momentarily absent, six other people took the opportunity to throw in a broken stepladder, old dog bed, half a tree and what looked like the contents of a fridge.
Perhaps it's just me, but I find behaviour like this incredibly arrogant. It's like people who knock something off a rail in a shop, turn round to look at the crumpled heap on the floor, then walk off, leaving it for a lowly shop assistant to pick up. Having worked in several customer service roles, I might be more sensitive to this kind of thing than others. There are things, for example, which I know people leave in cinemas which would make your stomach turn if I listed them here.
But whatever my reasons, I can't be the only one who thinks dumping your unwanted goods in any old way is rude. The council provides a thorough facility for everyone to get rid of rubbish quickly and easily, and employs people to help anyone who can't read the massive signs at the tip. The least people can do is make the three extra steps to put everything in the right place.
Or perhaps they're just so busy and important, they don't need to bother.
As of this week, bin collections in the Leeds City Council area will - hopefully - be getting back to normal. Great news for all residents, who can expect an end to the piles of rubbish on the city's streets.
And great news for the refuse collectors who will have a few weeks of regular pay before Christmas. They may not all be happy about the terms of their return to work, but with more than two-thirds voting in favour of accepting the council's offer, residents can keep their fingers crossed things will not deteriorate again.
Information on what the agreement means in terms of bin collections is available via the council's website. Apart from some slightly conflicting information released over the past 11 weeks, I have to say the bin strike has had little impact on me. My street has not had the dozens of bin bags spilling their contents onto the floor that have been seen elsewhere. We've had no rats (unless you count the one dead one the cats left in the middle of the floor a couple of weeks ago, but given that they also deposited what looked like the remains of a pigeon in the same spot, I'm not putting that down to bin strikes). I tended to side with the strikers anyway, which perhaps increased my willingness to make a few adaptations during the strike action.
But what struck me the most was what I found out about the attitudes of some residents to waste and recycling. After my green recycling bin filled up, I made several trips to the local tip in Harehills. I spotted quite a few other people doing the same, dropping off cardboard and tins and old newspapers in the clearly-labelled "green bin waste" skips.
The incredible thing was the number of people who simply empties whatever was in the back of their cars into the nearest skip, not even looking at the signs showing what kind of waste went where. During the busiest periods, such as Sunday afternoons, there were council employees on hand to clear full skips and direct people to the correct skip. Despite this, I saw someone pulling up, dragging a three-piece suite out of their van and chucking it into the "green bin waste" skip while a frustrated yellow-jacketed man watched in amazement. He called to them to throw the furniture into a different pile, but by then there were only a couple of cushions left. Cue two yellow jackets half-climbing into a skip to retrieve the sofas as, supervision being momentarily absent, six other people took the opportunity to throw in a broken stepladder, old dog bed, half a tree and what looked like the contents of a fridge.
Perhaps it's just me, but I find behaviour like this incredibly arrogant. It's like people who knock something off a rail in a shop, turn round to look at the crumpled heap on the floor, then walk off, leaving it for a lowly shop assistant to pick up. Having worked in several customer service roles, I might be more sensitive to this kind of thing than others. There are things, for example, which I know people leave in cinemas which would make your stomach turn if I listed them here.
But whatever my reasons, I can't be the only one who thinks dumping your unwanted goods in any old way is rude. The council provides a thorough facility for everyone to get rid of rubbish quickly and easily, and employs people to help anyone who can't read the massive signs at the tip. The least people can do is make the three extra steps to put everything in the right place.
Or perhaps they're just so busy and important, they don't need to bother.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Review: The Men Who Stare at Goats
Welcome to review two, in an irregular series of... well, two so far. Depends how many times I go to the cinema and see something worth writing about.
Anyway, this week's choice of film was The Men Who Stare at Goats, starring Ewan McGregor, George Clooney and Kevin Spacey, among others. I was not particularly enthusiastic about seeing the film in the first place, having not heard a great deal about it, but I was certainly glad I gave in to the nagging and agreed to go.
It begins, as all good films should, with a journalist - in this case, one whose wife has just left him for another man. Faced with sitting in the same office as his ex and the man she fell for, he instead decides to prove his credentials and head for the dangers of reporting in Iraq.
Having seen a plot summary before going to the cinema, I did worry this film might attempt to make some sort of political point about the war, leaving me thinking harder than ought to be allowed on a Saturday evening. But it never came even remotely close to doing so, except through ridiculing the more bizarre approaches of the armed forces.
The Men Who Stare at Goats is a truly silly film - it is pointless, lacking any real climax and does rather labour some of its jokes. But I found it delightfully daft. I even understood some of the Jedi jokes, despite having never seen a Star Wars film. The entire concept is completely bizarre, but if you stick with it, it's well worth the perseverance; I haven't laughed as much at a film in a very long time.
Although it will never be a classic, The Men Who Stare at Goats is an entertaining watch and a fun way to spend 90 minutes (a good length for a film, I always think). Don't go expecting Saving Private Ryan - but do go expecting more than a few Jedi-related jokes as McGregor looks on innocently. And, as you leave, remember - this film is adapted from a book. That book was based on a true story. Scary.
Find out more about the film here.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Seven days on the breadline
Picture the scenario: four celebrities are sent to four families in underprivileged areas of Leeds. Each has to live for a week with their new family, surviving on the normal budget for the household.
On paper, it sounds like a typical reality show - which is probably why I didn't watch it to begin with. But I was prompted to catch up by colleagues who had seen the first episode.
The four celebrities - Mel B, Trinny Woodall, Keith Allen and Austin Healey - were indeed dropped into the lives of four Leeds people living on very low incomes. They had to survive a week on just a few pounds and attempt not to kill their housemates, some of whom were a more challenging prospect than others.
Keith Allen, for example, was living with a family of seven in a three-bedroom house in Lincoln Green. With six new "sons" to deal with, one of whom was distinctly uncooperative, I was expecting him to be among those who failed to see out the week.
Similarly, Trinny Woodall spent her seven days with a pensioner in Harehills more interested in gambling than Gucci, leading me to predict plenty of straight-to-camera pieces about how depressing this kind of life was and how sorry Trinny felt for the woman.
But I was in for a pleasant surprise. Well, 75 per cent of a pleasant surprise, anyway. Three of the four celebrities seemed to take a genuine interest in the futures of their families.
Austin Healey was determined to help the two teenaged boys in the family he was staying with. The eldest already had a tag checking he was obeying his court-imposed curfew - but underneath that, Austin saw a young man who cared for his family and wanted to make them happy. He seemed to be making headway by using sport to encourage the boys to be more positive and pushing them to think of their future.
Keith Allen, meanwhile, was setting about trying to get his enormous family a more suitable home. He was aghast to find that, although mum Michaela had made inquiries about moving, she had done nothing further to make it happen. He used the meagre budget to get new trainers for one of the kids, whose feet were blistered from ill-fitting shoes, and he took the youngest boys to his mate's recording studio for a treat.
Trinny Woodall was probably the biggest surprise. She really got stuck in with the various tasks her pensioner housemate needed done and went above and beyond the call of duty. Among her achievements was helping disabled Christine take advantage of shop mobility and encouraging her to remember the fun she had had as a younger woman. The series ended with Trinny (aided, no doubt, by producers) taking her new friend to a 70th birthday party and putting up some photos of Christine in her younger days.
The only real let-down of the programme was Mel B, which was particularly disappointing because the programme was filmed in her home city. Every time things got tough, she either screamed, shouted and banged doors, or took off to the gym. At one point, following an argument with unemployed 18-year-old Tyrone, she even bagged up a load of clothes and threw them down the stairs - I'm still not quite sure what she thought that would achieve. Similarly, the trip to Asda in a taxi was unrealistic and unproductive for the family in the long-term.
In terms of life lessons, the families in the programme - or some of them, at least - will hopefully have been given some inspiration by the efforts of the celebrities. After months and years of nothing changing, perhaps the programme might be a catalyst for some of the youngsters to make the most of themselves.
But, in reality, seven days is nothing compared to a lifetime of struggling to make ends meet and bring up a family on a tiny income. Although it has highlighted the issues of hopelessness and the vicious circle of poverty, the programme has provided nothing more than a window into their lives.
On paper, it sounds like a typical reality show - which is probably why I didn't watch it to begin with. But I was prompted to catch up by colleagues who had seen the first episode.
The four celebrities - Mel B, Trinny Woodall, Keith Allen and Austin Healey - were indeed dropped into the lives of four Leeds people living on very low incomes. They had to survive a week on just a few pounds and attempt not to kill their housemates, some of whom were a more challenging prospect than others.
Keith Allen, for example, was living with a family of seven in a three-bedroom house in Lincoln Green. With six new "sons" to deal with, one of whom was distinctly uncooperative, I was expecting him to be among those who failed to see out the week.
Similarly, Trinny Woodall spent her seven days with a pensioner in Harehills more interested in gambling than Gucci, leading me to predict plenty of straight-to-camera pieces about how depressing this kind of life was and how sorry Trinny felt for the woman.
But I was in for a pleasant surprise. Well, 75 per cent of a pleasant surprise, anyway. Three of the four celebrities seemed to take a genuine interest in the futures of their families.
Austin Healey was determined to help the two teenaged boys in the family he was staying with. The eldest already had a tag checking he was obeying his court-imposed curfew - but underneath that, Austin saw a young man who cared for his family and wanted to make them happy. He seemed to be making headway by using sport to encourage the boys to be more positive and pushing them to think of their future.
Keith Allen, meanwhile, was setting about trying to get his enormous family a more suitable home. He was aghast to find that, although mum Michaela had made inquiries about moving, she had done nothing further to make it happen. He used the meagre budget to get new trainers for one of the kids, whose feet were blistered from ill-fitting shoes, and he took the youngest boys to his mate's recording studio for a treat.
Trinny Woodall was probably the biggest surprise. She really got stuck in with the various tasks her pensioner housemate needed done and went above and beyond the call of duty. Among her achievements was helping disabled Christine take advantage of shop mobility and encouraging her to remember the fun she had had as a younger woman. The series ended with Trinny (aided, no doubt, by producers) taking her new friend to a 70th birthday party and putting up some photos of Christine in her younger days.
The only real let-down of the programme was Mel B, which was particularly disappointing because the programme was filmed in her home city. Every time things got tough, she either screamed, shouted and banged doors, or took off to the gym. At one point, following an argument with unemployed 18-year-old Tyrone, she even bagged up a load of clothes and threw them down the stairs - I'm still not quite sure what she thought that would achieve. Similarly, the trip to Asda in a taxi was unrealistic and unproductive for the family in the long-term.
In terms of life lessons, the families in the programme - or some of them, at least - will hopefully have been given some inspiration by the efforts of the celebrities. After months and years of nothing changing, perhaps the programme might be a catalyst for some of the youngsters to make the most of themselves.
But, in reality, seven days is nothing compared to a lifetime of struggling to make ends meet and bring up a family on a tiny income. Although it has highlighted the issues of hopelessness and the vicious circle of poverty, the programme has provided nothing more than a window into their lives.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
English pride in Leeds
Two major demonstrations were held in Leeds this weekend.
The first was set up by a fairly new group, the English Defence League, which claims to be protecting the country from Islamification and defending our culture.
The second was a counter-protest by Unite Against Fascism, a group which has come to more prominence in recent months as certain far right groups have made some political gains.
The two were being kept separate by police, who prevented them from marching as planned and instead allowed them to congregate in one area of the city centre each. It meant most shoppers could get on with their day without much disruption, unless you count watching several helicopters hovering overhead.
While UAF was kept to the art gallery area, the EDL was corralled around City Square, right outside the train station. Anyone wishing to catch a train was almost inevitably drawn into the edge of the crowd, while surrounding shops and businesses were forced to close their doors for at least part of the afternoon.
Plush Magazine comments that this is the "ugly face" of English pride, and I couldn't agree more. The EDL was primarily made up of white, young-to-middle-aged, shaven-headed men in varying degrees of intoxication. There was nothing to be proud of in their behaviour on Saturday afternoon - picking fights with bystanders, screaming abuse at anyone who dared to disagree with them and surging through police lines in an attempt to cause further disruption.
The protest has, of course, been allowed in the name of free speech. It is everyone's democratic right to stand up for what they believe in. But there must be a line drawn somewhere.
Saturday's protests required officers from nine police forces to be brought in to Leeds city centre. It is expected to have cost more than the September protest in Manchester, which itself ran up a bill of £800,000. Local businesses - even the ones which were not forced to close - will have lost money as a result of the protest, which acted as a fantastic deterrent to anyone thinking of venturing towards the City square area.
We should, of course, protect the rights of everyone to express their views - but surely only when they do so in a reasonable fashion. Why should ordinary members of the public be subjected to abuse, have their day disrupted, perhaps even fear for their own safety - and then have to foot the bill at the end of it?
Leeds is a multi-cultural, modern and exciting place. That is the kind of Englishness I choose to defend - not the rights of thugs to contaminate our city.
The first was set up by a fairly new group, the English Defence League, which claims to be protecting the country from Islamification and defending our culture.
The second was a counter-protest by Unite Against Fascism, a group which has come to more prominence in recent months as certain far right groups have made some political gains.
The two were being kept separate by police, who prevented them from marching as planned and instead allowed them to congregate in one area of the city centre each. It meant most shoppers could get on with their day without much disruption, unless you count watching several helicopters hovering overhead.
While UAF was kept to the art gallery area, the EDL was corralled around City Square, right outside the train station. Anyone wishing to catch a train was almost inevitably drawn into the edge of the crowd, while surrounding shops and businesses were forced to close their doors for at least part of the afternoon.
Plush Magazine comments that this is the "ugly face" of English pride, and I couldn't agree more. The EDL was primarily made up of white, young-to-middle-aged, shaven-headed men in varying degrees of intoxication. There was nothing to be proud of in their behaviour on Saturday afternoon - picking fights with bystanders, screaming abuse at anyone who dared to disagree with them and surging through police lines in an attempt to cause further disruption.
The protest has, of course, been allowed in the name of free speech. It is everyone's democratic right to stand up for what they believe in. But there must be a line drawn somewhere.
Saturday's protests required officers from nine police forces to be brought in to Leeds city centre. It is expected to have cost more than the September protest in Manchester, which itself ran up a bill of £800,000. Local businesses - even the ones which were not forced to close - will have lost money as a result of the protest, which acted as a fantastic deterrent to anyone thinking of venturing towards the City square area.
We should, of course, protect the rights of everyone to express their views - but surely only when they do so in a reasonable fashion. Why should ordinary members of the public be subjected to abuse, have their day disrupted, perhaps even fear for their own safety - and then have to foot the bill at the end of it?
Leeds is a multi-cultural, modern and exciting place. That is the kind of Englishness I choose to defend - not the rights of thugs to contaminate our city.
Free social media surgery in Leeds
I happened upon a site the other day which will be of enormous interest to a lot of people in Leeds.
Leeds Social Media Group is running an open surgery for all community and charity groups next week, offering advice on using various methods to communicate with the public.
Anyone needing help with a website, blog, Facebook or Twitter group for their organisation can get free support and instruction, which is absolutely brilliant. Companies offering this kind of service would charge by the hour for their advice, which charities and not-for-profit groups just can't afford to pay.
it is increasingly important for community groups to have an online presence and be easily contactable. There will always be those who are happy to just phone up or go along to an organisation's offices and who have no interest in how else it communicates. But there are more and more people, particularly younger generations, who take exactly the opposite view. I know myself if I'm looking for a company offering a particular service - a garage, for example - my first port of call will be the internet. If the company's website has too little information, is difficult to navigate or is badly written - or, worse, if there is no website - I will be very strongly deterred from using that company.
Old school journalists detest this view of life. They constantly argue that finding stories on Facebook or making a story from a trending topic on Twitter is not journalism. To be a real journalist, you have to go out and meet people and speak face-to-face, they argue. I wouldn't dare disagree that getting out on the streets is of huge importance, but it is not always the best approach. Stories involving students, for example, will often require a different approach to those involving pensioners. If you want to contact a 19-year-old about his part in a national news story - perhaps he has commented elsewhere as an eye-witness to a major event - then often, a message on Facebook is the best approach. It is what he is used to and will put him more at ease than a formal approach on the doorstep - and it then leaves room for him to call you and arrange a proper interview.
The same approach is needed by charities and other community groups - they need to make themselves available via every medium, to ensure people of all ages feel comfortable getting in touch.
Leeds Social Media Group is run by volunteers itself, so the whole thing is purely benefiting the community - especially because it promises biscuits, which I feel should always be provided at any kind of meeting or public event.
So get yourself along to the Round Foundry Media Centre next Tuesday evening from 5.30 to 7pm - more details here. And pass the word on. You never know who it might help.
Leeds Social Media Group is running an open surgery for all community and charity groups next week, offering advice on using various methods to communicate with the public.
Anyone needing help with a website, blog, Facebook or Twitter group for their organisation can get free support and instruction, which is absolutely brilliant. Companies offering this kind of service would charge by the hour for their advice, which charities and not-for-profit groups just can't afford to pay.
it is increasingly important for community groups to have an online presence and be easily contactable. There will always be those who are happy to just phone up or go along to an organisation's offices and who have no interest in how else it communicates. But there are more and more people, particularly younger generations, who take exactly the opposite view. I know myself if I'm looking for a company offering a particular service - a garage, for example - my first port of call will be the internet. If the company's website has too little information, is difficult to navigate or is badly written - or, worse, if there is no website - I will be very strongly deterred from using that company.
Old school journalists detest this view of life. They constantly argue that finding stories on Facebook or making a story from a trending topic on Twitter is not journalism. To be a real journalist, you have to go out and meet people and speak face-to-face, they argue. I wouldn't dare disagree that getting out on the streets is of huge importance, but it is not always the best approach. Stories involving students, for example, will often require a different approach to those involving pensioners. If you want to contact a 19-year-old about his part in a national news story - perhaps he has commented elsewhere as an eye-witness to a major event - then often, a message on Facebook is the best approach. It is what he is used to and will put him more at ease than a formal approach on the doorstep - and it then leaves room for him to call you and arrange a proper interview.
The same approach is needed by charities and other community groups - they need to make themselves available via every medium, to ensure people of all ages feel comfortable getting in touch.
Leeds Social Media Group is run by volunteers itself, so the whole thing is purely benefiting the community - especially because it promises biscuits, which I feel should always be provided at any kind of meeting or public event.
So get yourself along to the Round Foundry Media Centre next Tuesday evening from 5.30 to 7pm - more details here. And pass the word on. You never know who it might help.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Cyclists
Cyclists are idiots.
Actually, that might be generalising a bit. Some cyclists are idiots.
The one currently sitting next to me is, of course, not an idiot. But he has brought an element of cyclist idiocy to my attention.
With the clocks having just changed, it is noticeably darker by 5pm than it was a week ago. The natural reaction for most commuters to this difference is to switch on their lights. But not all.
Some cyclists seem to see themselves as an exception to the rules of the road, particularly when it comes to the use of lights in the dark. Just a few days into dark commuting, I have already seen several unlit bikes on the roads of Leeds, their riders seemingly unaware of the danger they are in.
With bright car headlights filling the streets, a light-free cyclist can be extremely tricky to spot, especially for a motorist turning out of a side street. Focusing on the lights of more distant traffic, the driver can quite easily miss the silent, camouflaged figure rolling down the edge of the road towards him.
It's quite obvious who will come off worse in a fight between a cyclist and a car - so why on earth don't they all put lights on their bikes? For just a few pounds, they can make themselves infinitely safer on the journey home.
The trouble is, anyone stupid or arrogant enough to believe they don't need to use lights like every other road user is unlikely to take kindly to having their idiocy pointed out. I should know - I've tried it.
Well, my other half has. We were driving through Leeds the other day and narrowly missed hitting an invisible cyclist as we pulled out of a junction. Concerned for the man's safety, my other half wound down his window and (quite politely) urged him to get some lights. He was told in no uncertain terms to mind his own business (quite impolitely).
It is, of course, up to the individual to decide how best to equip himself for his journey to work and it is human nature to be defensive if you feel you are being criticised. But when there is a risk of a serious accident, how can you convey this to the cyclist without getting a mouthful of abuse?
Answers on a postcard please.
Actually, that might be generalising a bit. Some cyclists are idiots.
The one currently sitting next to me is, of course, not an idiot. But he has brought an element of cyclist idiocy to my attention.
With the clocks having just changed, it is noticeably darker by 5pm than it was a week ago. The natural reaction for most commuters to this difference is to switch on their lights. But not all.
Some cyclists seem to see themselves as an exception to the rules of the road, particularly when it comes to the use of lights in the dark. Just a few days into dark commuting, I have already seen several unlit bikes on the roads of Leeds, their riders seemingly unaware of the danger they are in.
With bright car headlights filling the streets, a light-free cyclist can be extremely tricky to spot, especially for a motorist turning out of a side street. Focusing on the lights of more distant traffic, the driver can quite easily miss the silent, camouflaged figure rolling down the edge of the road towards him.
It's quite obvious who will come off worse in a fight between a cyclist and a car - so why on earth don't they all put lights on their bikes? For just a few pounds, they can make themselves infinitely safer on the journey home.
The trouble is, anyone stupid or arrogant enough to believe they don't need to use lights like every other road user is unlikely to take kindly to having their idiocy pointed out. I should know - I've tried it.
Well, my other half has. We were driving through Leeds the other day and narrowly missed hitting an invisible cyclist as we pulled out of a junction. Concerned for the man's safety, my other half wound down his window and (quite politely) urged him to get some lights. He was told in no uncertain terms to mind his own business (quite impolitely).
It is, of course, up to the individual to decide how best to equip himself for his journey to work and it is human nature to be defensive if you feel you are being criticised. But when there is a risk of a serious accident, how can you convey this to the cyclist without getting a mouthful of abuse?
Answers on a postcard please.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
As the dust begins to settle...
A few days after what was probably the most controversial Question Time ever, the dust is very slowly beginning to settle.
In some ways, the programme itself was only a small element of the whole fiasco. The surrounding storm was by far more interesting to observe for those who were able to keep some sense of perspective on things.
An appearance on a key political programme on a publicly funded national television station by the leader of a party with extreme views is always going to lead to clashes. There are those who believe such views should not be given such a prominent platform, and I can quite understand why they think that. Among them is Nelson, founder of one of my favourite websites, Speak You're Branes, who blogged on the topic in very strong terms.
Others, like James Dray, said as long as questions were pressed upon him, Grick Niffin would be unable to maintain his attempt at respectability.
On balance, I probably sided with the latter view over the former. As much as I loathe what the party stands for, I couldn't help but feel attempts to smother its pubicity machine would only attract more supporters under the guise of campaigning for free speech.
In the event, Question Time was much as could have been expected. The audience was largely against Niffin and the panelists were also keen to challenge some of his more abhorrent views. David Dimbleby, to his credit, also pressed Niffin for specifics rather than allowing him to get away with vague generalisations about his previous holocaust denial and views on homosexuality.
Naturally, the party has now cried foul and protested their leader had been targeted and bullied. Poor Niffin. Not because he was picked on, but because he was naive enough to think he would get anything less than a severe grilling on such a high-profile edition of the programme. He was clearly not up to the task.
Logged into Twitter as the scene unfolded, I was reassured by the reaction of the vast majority of users. Later, and in the days since, message boards would suggest the balance has seriously shifted. There are hundreds of people claiming that, although they would never have voted PNB before, the targeting of Niffin and the rest of the panel getting off so lightly has changed their minds. Their whole family has been converted.
It makes for depressing reading, if it is taken seriously. Which is exactly why it should not be. Party members have swamped message boards and comment sites making the programme seem far more of a success for them than it ever would be, even if Niffin had expressed himself clearly, fairly and rationally. It is all part of the game-playing and underhand tactics of the party's members. They target any site which mentions the party or leader's name (hence the subtle code I've employed) and simply don't let up.
With one of the party's two MEPs representing Yorkshire, Leeds residents must feel some concern about the attitudes of their neighbours to issues including homosexuality, race, religion and more. The huge number of pro-PNB messages must make members of the mulitcultural communities in Leeds despair. But I have a way to cheer them up: make regular visits to Speak You're Branes and remind yourself that not everyone thinks that way - just the ones who feel the need to flood the internet with their disgusting views.
In some ways, the programme itself was only a small element of the whole fiasco. The surrounding storm was by far more interesting to observe for those who were able to keep some sense of perspective on things.
An appearance on a key political programme on a publicly funded national television station by the leader of a party with extreme views is always going to lead to clashes. There are those who believe such views should not be given such a prominent platform, and I can quite understand why they think that. Among them is Nelson, founder of one of my favourite websites, Speak You're Branes, who blogged on the topic in very strong terms.
Others, like James Dray, said as long as questions were pressed upon him, Grick Niffin would be unable to maintain his attempt at respectability.
On balance, I probably sided with the latter view over the former. As much as I loathe what the party stands for, I couldn't help but feel attempts to smother its pubicity machine would only attract more supporters under the guise of campaigning for free speech.
In the event, Question Time was much as could have been expected. The audience was largely against Niffin and the panelists were also keen to challenge some of his more abhorrent views. David Dimbleby, to his credit, also pressed Niffin for specifics rather than allowing him to get away with vague generalisations about his previous holocaust denial and views on homosexuality.
Naturally, the party has now cried foul and protested their leader had been targeted and bullied. Poor Niffin. Not because he was picked on, but because he was naive enough to think he would get anything less than a severe grilling on such a high-profile edition of the programme. He was clearly not up to the task.
Logged into Twitter as the scene unfolded, I was reassured by the reaction of the vast majority of users. Later, and in the days since, message boards would suggest the balance has seriously shifted. There are hundreds of people claiming that, although they would never have voted PNB before, the targeting of Niffin and the rest of the panel getting off so lightly has changed their minds. Their whole family has been converted.
It makes for depressing reading, if it is taken seriously. Which is exactly why it should not be. Party members have swamped message boards and comment sites making the programme seem far more of a success for them than it ever would be, even if Niffin had expressed himself clearly, fairly and rationally. It is all part of the game-playing and underhand tactics of the party's members. They target any site which mentions the party or leader's name (hence the subtle code I've employed) and simply don't let up.
With one of the party's two MEPs representing Yorkshire, Leeds residents must feel some concern about the attitudes of their neighbours to issues including homosexuality, race, religion and more. The huge number of pro-PNB messages must make members of the mulitcultural communities in Leeds despair. But I have a way to cheer them up: make regular visits to Speak You're Branes and remind yourself that not everyone thinks that way - just the ones who feel the need to flood the internet with their disgusting views.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Review: Up
Preamble:
I am by no means a movie expert, as my friends will attest.
I have never seen many of the classic films which would enable me to understand references to them in popular culture, such as Back to the Future, Pulp Fiction, any of the Star Wars or Bond films or Casablanca. But I know what I like and so, in an attempt to lighten the mood of my blog, here are my thoughts on the new Pixar blockbuster, Up.
Review:
The story begins with a simple premisce: a boy and girl meet and fall in love over a shared urge for adventure. Their life together, while not filled with the kind of excitement they imagined, has plenty of fun and enjoyment, and the pair hold firm onto their dream of one day living at the top of Paradise Falls.
But life has a way of changing our plans for us and, as their savings mount up, the dream is regularly thwarted by unexpected outgoings which keep them firmly rooted in the home they bought as newly-weds.
Many years later, the man is forced into action by the threat of being evicted. He chooses an unusual method to help his dreams take flight - and has some unexpected company along the way.
Up is a very touching animation which had me laughing and crying in equal measure. The saddest moments are mostly lost on the young audience, but the story is no less enjoyable for adults. It is even better for its refusal to rely on the voices of Hollywood A-listers to draw in the crowds. Although there are some notable names - Christopher Plummer and John Ratzenberger (Cliff Clavin of Cheers fame) being the biggest - the film is driven by a strong story and some incredible imagination.
Far from predictable, Up is a breath of fresh air for animation fans growing weary of the formulaic offerings of recent years. Those looking to follow will have to raise their game to match.
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