Issue #113. September 30th - October 14th, 2005
Everyone has a secret
Valerie leaned forward and tapped Martin on the shoulder.
"Excuse me gentlemen, you may not have noticed but there are children present on this bus. You may like to watch your language."
The bus fell silent. People leaned forward in their seats.
By Rachel Queen
Working at it
Some things just aren't supposed to work.
Like Cornelius.
Maybe it was the name, but fate had it that he, like things, just wasn't supposed to work.
"I'm not supposed to work" he said to his mum over toasted panini with sundried tomatoes and a skinny, decaff latte.
"Look at these hands" he continued "These are artiste's hands. I am an artiste."
By Paul Williamson
Record review: Decoration (Don't Disappoint Me Now)
Don’t Disappoint Me Now opens with Pavey Ark a real hair standing on end surging wail of desperate overdriven guitars which expand, collide and implode like the final moments of a dying star, from this intensity emerges a lusciously melancholy bass line the likes of which were last seen when Peter Hook played Ceremony and a simple one string guitar solo that pulls on your heart strings, smiles and
and walks away.
By Johnny Mac
Live review: Belle and Sebastian at the Barbican
Sunday night’s concert was an almost formal affair and a far cry from the last time I saw Belle and Sebastian, a year and a half ago in a tent at the Oxygen festival in County Kildare. They were one of the last acts of the night, so the tent was full of tired, wet, sweaty people
By Grainne Lynch
When Dick Met Katrina
In the words of one Afghan it looks more like Africa than America – most of the victims are black and the government response was so late and badly organised that it’s hard to believe that these poor suffering people could be citizens of the country boasting the most powerful government on earth.
By Duncan McFarlane
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Everyone has a Secret
Whilst wind was busy wrapping plastic bags around tress, Valerie Young was busy applying a shade of fuccia pink lipstick and checking her hair one last time before wrapping silk headscarf meticulously around it. A vibrant blue headscarf to be precise. A shade, which matched her vibrant blue, top and shawl perfectly. Valerie particularly liked the shawl. It was made of an iridescent material, which reflected a thousand shades of blue.
"Just like a peacocks feathers." She had thought as she had bought it.
It wasn't only her appearance that Valerie took pride in. She prided herself that she could conduct herself in an appropriate manner at all times.
And after 76 years of well-lived life she had had plenty of practice.
Valerie slipped on her shoes: black, with a small heel, and well polished. Checked her handbag one last time and left the house.
At the bus stop she smiled politely at the other women her age and though she had known them for most of her life she did not join in their conversation. It wasn't snobbery as such - 45 married to the local GP had created a wedge between herself and the rest of the town. Each person has a secret, and each person was quite sure that she knew it. Of course there wasn't an ounce of truth in this. Her husband had always been very glad to leave work behind him at the end of the day, and besides he had absolutely no interest in sharing idle gossip with her or anybody else.
The bus arrived at a startling pace. Pulled on its breaks and stopped 5 metres down the road from the bus stop. The disgruntled almost passengers traipsed down the road muttering frantically to one another before smiling sweetly to the driver and handing over their fares. Valerie followed on behind two women she had known from school, occasionally her hand darting towards her head to check that her headscarf was still in place. She took her seat towards the middle of the bus. She was agile enough on her feet and so felt it only right to leave the sets at the front free for the "elderly customers".
Darren and Martin had not been waiting at the bus stop. They had been sitting on an upturned park bench nearby smoking and talking in loud pretentious voices about obscure heavy metal bands. They boarded the bus just before it left, argued with the bus driver about whether they were eligible for half price fares, then took their seats directly in front of Valerie.
Although their walk, their slumped back, and their lazy way of talking was designed to tell the world that they did not care about anybody or anything Valerie noticed the vague but un disguisable crease mark made from an iron on the shoulder of Daren's t-shirt.
"No style" she thought to herself, "if they really must go for the beaten up rock star look, they should at least do it right."
Darren and Martin started up their conversation once more, and to Valerie's horror they continued it using ever more colourful language.
Now Valerie knew that language had changed over the years. She had even grown to accept the change, but what she couldn't stand was the use of swear words in front of children.
Sitting opposite Darren and Martin were two young girls Valerie only knew by sight. They were sweet young things always inventing stories and laughing happily amongst themselves. She would often see them on her walks about town, on their way to and from school, or, like now, accompany their mother shopping.
Valerie leaned forward and tapped Martin on the shoulder.
"Excuse me gentlemen, you may not have noticed but there are children present on this bus. You may like to watch your language."
The bus fell silent. People leaned forward in their seats.
Much to Valerie's pleasure and Martin annoyance, he blushed a very unbecoming shade of red.
"Ahh… " Thought Valerie "the burden of youth"
"Yeah. We'd noticed." Said Darren
"Well would you mind being a bit more careful about what you are saying?"
"Actually we would. It is a free country you know, darling…"
Valerie rolled her eyes. The bus driver turned his eyes rather alarmingly from the road and shouted:
"I've had enough trouble from the two of yer. If I hear another word out of either of yous, yer off. Got it?"
The lads, lips snarling, eyes filled with anger, knew that they'd have an hour's wait for the next bus or 8 mile walk into town in the rain if they did not comply and fell silent. The other passengers cheered silently and tried to catch Valerie's eye to show their respect for what she had done. Valerie leaned back in her seat, graciously accepting her small victory.
As misfortune would have it though on the return journey, Valerie found herself getting of at the same place as the lads. The night had turned dark, the rain had thickened and for once in her life Valerie almost lost her composure, tripping slightly as she left the bus.
"Take care, love" called out the driver, and looked over her shoulder at towards Darren and Marin meaningfully.
Valerie started walking quickly home, but as soon as the bus had pulled out of site, Darren caught up with her and roughly got hold of arm and shook her.
"We don't like people making us look stupid"
"No I imagine you do that well enough on your own," thought Valerie biting her tongue.
Martin watching Valerie's frightened face laugh nastily.
"Not got so much to say now have you?"
Valerie was shaking. "Think women, think!" Valerie desperately ran over ideas in her mind. How could she get out of this. "Ahh… Persil" she thought breathing in the distinctive smell of washing powder emanating from Darren. "A real mummy's boy this one" she thought suddenly smiling.
"I don't believe you know who I am do you?"
"Do we look like we care?" said Darren, in as bored a voice as he could manage.
"I'm Valerie Young. Or should I say the wife of Dr Young? I believe my husband knew your mother"
Valerie directed the question towards Darren with a smirk. Inside her heart was pounding. She hoped to god that her husband's reputation in the small rural community would be enough to prevent Darren from questioning this "fact" any further.
"Now what was it he used to tell me?" Valerie covered her mouth and then let out a girlish giggle
"Oh yes." She said "How embarrassing. She had to come and visit him quite a lot. The severest case of… of course I couldn't say. He wasn't supposed to share patient secrets with me. Although I don't suppose it will do any harm now that he has gone. " Valerie turned her eyes towards the sky.
"You don't know nothing!" shouted Darren Angrily
"No I don't suppose I do. But I'm sure your friend would be interested to hear about it none the less."
Indeed Martin was staring at Valerie with considerable interest. She turned her eyes towards him.
"Alfred and I had quite a laugh about it I am slightly ashamed to say. The poor women. I think there was a time that she couldn't even sit down…"
Darren unsure what to do, turned on his heels and ran off into the night. Martin stood looking gormless for a few minutes more and then joined his friend.
Valerie stared after the boys' hasty getaway in disgust. She straightened her headscarf, got out her compact and reapplied her lipstick.
"No style" she thought once again "You won't get anywhere these days without a bit of style".
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Working At It
Some things just aren't supposed to work.
Like Cornelius.
Maybe it was the name, but fate had it that he, like things, just wasn't
supposed to work.
"I'm not supposed to work" he said to his mum over toasted panini with sundried
tomatoes and a skinny, decaff latte.
"Look at these hands" he continued "These are artiste's hands. I am an
artiste."
His mother said nothing but thought, yes, he always adored the classics. Adored
them.
"Mormmm?"
"Yes Cornelius"
"Are you paying for this? It's just like, I have no money and-"
"NO money?"
"Well, none as such"
"What do you mean, 'none as such'?"
"I mean like, well I'm trying to...I mean, it's Ed's birthday? and, like, we're
going to 'Wet', and-"
"What in God's name is 'Wet'?"
"It's a club, a new club in Bethnal Green. It used to be called 'Viscious' but
its got new owners and-"
"Bethnal Green? Bethnal Green? Who on earth would want to go there?"
"It's cool morm, I mean, its, like, completely rejuvenated? the whole area is
just so.....anyway, so yeah, I've got money for that, but..."
"Oh ok, but it comes out of your allowance- you know that don't you Cornelius?"
"Yeah, I'm cool with that" and he was cool with that because he knew that it
would never come out of his allowance.
Cornelius was 23. His friends called him Li.
Munch.
Chomp.
Slurp.
Cornelius, like the vast majority of his compatriots, had finished university
(collecting a respectable 2:2 Joint Honours degree in Philosophy and the
Classics), and was, in Guardian-cum-Telegraph-cum-Times parlance, "considering
his options". His father, who worked as a Barrister on Churchill Street, had
offered Cornelius a temporary post in his office until something better came
along, but Cornelius declined said offer as he couldn't then fully commit
himself to his art and he was, after all, an artiste. His mother, whom
Cornelius inherited his artistic sensibilities from, was a keen amateur
dramatist, well known and much loved amongst the South Kensington amateur
dramatic fraternity, and she had promised to speak with the floor manager of
her latest production (a contemporary version of Kubla Kahn, incorporating
facets of Jazz improv) who, she had been assured, was on speaking terms with,
amongst others, Sir Tim Rice and Peter Duncan.
She wasn't sleeping with said Floor Manager, and Cornelius' dad wasn't sleeping
with his pretty young intern.
"Dessert?"
"Sorry?"
"Dessert, Cornelius- Would you like some dessert?"
"Morm, I wish you wouldn't, like, call me Cornelius and stuff"
"But that's your name"
"Yeah, I know, but-"
"But what?"
"It's, like...oh, it doesn't matter" He smiled.
"What is it Cornelius?"
"No...it's fine" He said. He thought about his allowance. "It's cool."
For a split second, his mother's face had creased into a worried ball of
festering emotions- she would hate to think that she had done anything to upset
her son (and for the record, it was actually his father- himself a Cornelius-
that had bestowed upon her only child said label and lineage)- but it soon
returned to it's usual taut and disassociated state.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Silence.
Cornelius' mother was bored. She shouldn't be- she barely saw her son unless he
needed money- and in actual fact she wasn't bored, rather, she was restless.
She was meeting Simon, the Floor Manager, in an hour or so, to discuss her role
and to see if an esteemed light of the South Kensington and Chelsea Amateur
Dramatic Society and, perchance, bumped into Sir Tim or Peter. They would talk
about other things too- they always had such fun- and her workaholic husband
was working late (again) so she wouldn't be missed and anyway, if the truth be
told, she actually had far more in common with Simon that she did with her
husband these days. Her husband loathed the arts- he said it was full of
Jackboots and Queens. When he wasn't working, he could be found, more often
than not, playing golf or propping up the clubhouse bar. It was an arrangement
that suited them both just fine.
Dreams long subsided in a sad soliloqy of silence and regrets, but let's not go
down that road- your skin will only sag some more.
"Ready?"
"Ready"
"It was nice to see you Cornelius."
"Yeah, you too morm. So..."
"Yes"
"Yeah....any plans for the rest of the day?"
"No...not really, I might meet a friend later....."
.....
"You?"
"Well, I'm meeting Ed at nine..."
"So..."
"Yeah..."
"See you soon Cornelius"
"Yeah you too morm"
They almost embraced then his mother went one way and Cornelius, the artiste,
went the other way. This was the way that all things went. He was going to
visit his father. He thought his father's new intern was hot. He had a plan...
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Belle and Sebastian at the Barbican
25-09-05
Sunday night’s concert was an almost formal affair and a far-cry from the last time I saw Belle and Sebastian, a year and a half ago in a tent at the Oxygen festival in County Kildare. They were one of the last acts of the night, so the tent was full of tired, wet, sweaty people. The Barbican on Sunday was a world away from that sweat and muck!
As we walked in we could hear the announcement; ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats in the auditorium as the performance will begin in 15 minutes.’ Inside the auditorium there were Belle and Sebastian fans above me in the Gallery and below me in the Stalls. And we all had fat, cushioned seats and generous arm-rests. I took my seat, full of excitement and anticipation.
I was sitting too far aware from the stage to tell you what the band were wearing when they finally came onstage, though it’s a pretty safe bet that Mr. Stevie Jackson was wearing a suit! They were there to play one of my all time favourite albums ‘If You’re Feeling Sinister’ in full, but the show started with a selection of other songs.
And almost from the first words of the first song (Slow Graffiti) Stuart was forgetting lyrics! As Stevie said later as he held up proceedings because he wasn’t ready; it added a sense of the old school Belle and Sebastian gig, a homage to the shambolics of 1996!
The opening songs including one brand new unreleased one, some less new ones and one very old one – Electronic Renaissance from the Tigermilk album. This was met with enthusiasm from the crowd and it sounded very, very cool. It made me regret the fancy, comfy seats. I wanted to get up and dance! This was to become a familiar feeling throughout a truly rocking show. It felt so wrong to sit through songs like Me and the Major and Mayfly! I resisted the urge as long as I could, out of shyness and fear of reproach from the people seating behind me, but I couldn’t sit through ‘Judy and the Dream of Horses’! I wasn’t the only one who felt this way and as the band launched into the first chorus people all around me leapt from their seats. It was a glorious moment!
All these people were still standing when the band finished the song and left the stage, and lots of others got up to join in the rapturous standing ovation which seemed to go one and on. And the applause just got louder and the screams and shrieks more excited when the band returned to the stage.
After that short break, I danced ecstatically to Woman’s Realm, The Boy with the Arab Strap, Wrong Girl, I’m A Cuckoo, If you find yourself caught in love and Dog on Wheels. They played songs from almost every album and covered their back-catalogue admirably. So many wonderful songs, performed with such joy and enthusiasm. There may have been some long gaps between songs while people swapped or tuned instruments, but in between the gaps the songs were faultless.
Listening to If You’re Feeling Sinister this evening it sounded a little flat and quiet after the energy, excitement and wonderful atmosphere of Sundays performance. I am looking forward to Belle and Sebastian’s new album and seeing what they come up with next.
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When Dick Met Katrina
The entire world has been shocked by the chaos and deaths caused by Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans and across Louisiana and Mississipi. Hurricane Rita, which followed closely behind and caused more widespread flooding, reminded America and the world that this was not a one-off incident but very probably a symptom of intensifying climate change.
In the words of one Afghan it looks more like Africa than America – most of the victims are black and the government response was so late and badly organised that it’s hard to believe that these poor suffering people could be citizens of the country boasting the most powerful government on earth. Afghanistan – one of the poorest countries on earth - is giving foreign aid to the US.
Was the Bush Administration to Blame in any way?
Were State and Local Government to blame as well?
‘Welfare state’ or poverty and no way out for the poor?
Does Global Warming exist? Is it man–made? Did it make Katrina worse?
Will the disaster change Bush administration policies or lose them support?
Is the US government really too democratic to respond to a crisis?
What lessons can we learn from this tragedy so we can save lives in the future?
Was the Bush Administration to Blame in any way?
Michael Moore seemed to overstate the case when he said that the deaths in Louisiana were NOT (in his capital letters) caused by the hurricane.
Clearly the hurricane caused the flooding, which caused most of the deaths – and hurricanes are not preventable.
Moore is right though that there are several reasons to think that the Bush administration’s policies were negligent and have probably led to more people dying than might otherwise have died.
Spending on flood defences for New Orleans had been inadequate for decades – but under the Bush administration it was reduced to lower levels than ever before. Spending on strengthening the levees on the Mississippi river was stopped altogether for the first time in almost 40 years. If spending had been higher it may or may not have been enough to limit the flooding to some areas or stop it happening altogether. We can’t be certain. We do know though that what’s happened in New Orleans has been predicted for years.
If people weren’t dying it would have been almost comic to hear the Bush administration’s claims that no-one could have predicted the disaster or been prepared to deal with it. It was entirely predictable, it was predicted repeatedly for years by scientists, by the media and even by theFederal Emergency Management Agency and it was predicted to the Bush administration – and they were negligent.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency which organises aid and evacuation in emergencies was merged into the new Department of Homeland Security in 2003. It’s budget was cut, it lost 500 staff (from over 5,000) and at the same time it was asked to do more with less by having to plan for terrorist attacks as well as natural disasters.
So it’s clear that the US federal governments preparation for and response to the disaster was inadequate and probably resulted in many people dying who might otherwise have survived – and what’s equally certain is that the Bush administration’s ideologically driven policies were the main cause of this. Bush has at least admitted that there were failures at a federal level.
Were State and Local Government to blame as well?
The Bush administration has blamed the Louisiana State and local governments (mostly run by Democrats) for the lack of emergency aid to survivors.
First they claimed Louisiana’s governor had refused to approve a declaration of martial law or access for National Guard forces from other states. Whether you believe this will probably depend on your prior political affiliations. The Louisiana state government has provided documents which seem to show that they had requested both these things and federal aid before the hurricane struck.
There are also reports that the Department of Homeland Security prevented the Red Cross entering New Orleans because they want everyone to evacuate it due to the risks of disease from corpses, polluted water and malaria from mosquitoes. Was this the Louisiana state Homeland Security Department or the Federal one?
The policy of evacuating everyone may be wise. The problem is that the government(s) failed to evacuate people quickly and didn’t provide them with enough food or water while they were waiting to be evacuated – and even possibly prevented aid agencies supplying it.
There have been various other reports which allege that some local government officials at various levels were negligent.
It seems likely that there were failures at local and state level but a response to an emergency on this scale could only ever be effectively mounted at a national level by the Federal government so the majority of the blame must be placed with those with the majority of the power – the Bush administration.
‘Welfare state’ or poverty and no way out for the poor?
What lessons have radical right wing commentators learned from Katrina? Some very strange ones. A popular theory for many right wing pundits is that the relief effort to New Orleans failed because the people of New Orleans failed to help themselves and/or failed to behave in a civilised way . This inability to look after themselves and/or barbaric behaviour is caused supposedly by the welfare state undermining people’s development of the ability to cope – and their morality.
There are a couple of problems with this theory. Apart from the fact that most of the reports of widespread murders and rapes were rumours with almost no basis in fact the welfare state in the US has been being cut constantly since Reagan came into power in the 80s. Under Clinton this continued with the President approving ‘welfare to work’ schemes which were another euphemism for welfare cuts , putting time limits on claiming benefit. Between 1993 and 1999 the number of Americans receiving welfare payments halved from 14 to 7 million. Further cuts under Bush increased the proportion of Americans living in poverty to 12.4%.
Nor was there any welfare state, or even any proper aid or evacuation programme, in New Orleans. It was lack of effective government, not too much government that was the problem.
In New Orleans before the flood 28% of the population were in poverty. These people couldn’t afford cars and there was no public transport provided by local,state or federal government – and only a 3 hour warning to evacuate – too little time to escape on foot. Then armed police closed the main bridge across the Mississippi to those who hadn’t had cars to escape earlier.
These police feared looting spreading to their areas – and no level of government had evacuated the poor or provided them with supplies or troops to prevent crime or fighting over what little food and water there was.
So much for the ‘welfare state’ causing ‘moral breakdown’. The government wouldn’t tax people on higher incomes to provide proper flood defences – and the government didn’t provide any way out for the poor. Some police even stopped them leaving. People in poverty don’t have the income to buy extra food to store for emergencies, they weren’t getting emergency supplies – so they stole it rather than die or see their children die.
Does Global Warming exist? Is it man–made? Did it make Katrina worse?
We can argue about whether global warming is being accelerated and intensified by the burning of fossil fuels (many scientists believe it is and personally I believe it is) and we could note that most of the members of the Bush administration are former heads of oil or oil services firms (most notoriously ‘Ricky’ Dick Cheney – former Chief Executive of Halliburton – ok I admit only I call him Ricky and only to get a better title).
While we know that hurricanes took place in the 19th century before oil and gas were burnt on a large scale some scientists also believe the frequency and intensity of hurricanes and other natural disasters is increased by man-made global warming.
It would be sensible to change our energy policies given the certainty that fossil fuels cause air pollution and contribute to causing lung diseases including asthma – and even the possibility that fossil fuels are intensifying global warming should make use change our energy sources.
However it remains difficult to persuade many people on the global warming issue despite the majority of scientists arguing that their research indicates it has a large man-made element to it. This is due to the amount of extremely dubious ‘research’ funded by oil companies –like the report last year which claimed that climate change is a ‘myth’ which was largely funded by companies like Exxon-Mobil. They even invented a petition supposedly signed by 17,000 scientists denying climate change and used fronts like the ‘Heartland Institute’ to publicise it. It’s common knowledge that Bush’s Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice used to be on Exxon’s Board of Directors.
Exxon also employed Phillip Cooney who worked as a White House official writing up policy documents on climate change which distorted the scientific evidence in the same way intelligence on Iraq was distorted. When his link to Exxon was revealed he resigned – and immediately got a job working for Exxon again.
Will the disaster change Bush administration policies or lose them support?
A man paddles down a New Orleans street
Bush has definitely lost support as a result of the failure to provide food, water and medical treatment to survivors as fast as it could have been provided. In the latest polls under 40% of Americans approve of the job he’s doing as President – and in every poll over 50% disapprove. Whether the right lessons will be learned or whether the failures will be put down to some lack of the mystical property of ‘leadership’ is another matter.
The priority for the Bush administration remains massive redistribution of wealth – to the wealthiest. More tax cuts for the wealthy, more welfare ‘reform’ (i.e cuts in spending for the poorest) – and federal reconstruction contracts in Louisiana for firms they used to be executives of or got donations from (the same firms getting reconstruction contracts in Iraq - including subsidiaries of Halliburton). The firms getting these contracts in Louisiana won’t even have to pay the minimum wage to the people they employ.
In keeping with their neo-liberal ideology the Bush administration have done nothing to provide public transport , encourage environmentally friendly energy , or regulate the use of fossil fuels or the companies that extract , transport and sell them. Instead he has suggested that individuals are responsible for using their cars less - while, as one Texan sceptic pointed out, flying around in a jet and a helicopter.
Is the US government really too democratic to respond to a crisis?
The other explanation repeated by many news agencies (who’ve all obviously been briefed by the White House) is that the US system of government is just too democratic for it’s own good. No one person has the power to organise quick and effective action in an emergency. Bush couldn’t have just sent in FEMA and the National Guard because he’d have been accused of being a dictator.
This is really quite weak stuff. When has the Bush administration ever worried about going beyond its constitutional powers, threatening people’s civil rights, or pushing the President’s massive powers to the limit? The idea that they have suddenly become strict constitutionalists who make the American Civil Liberties Union look authoritarian isn’t convincing.
What lessons can we learn from this tragedy so we can save lives in the future?
The real lessons Katrina has taught us are simpler and we’ve known them for a long time.
Charities will never have enough funds to match public services – and private companies in a de-regulated market will always care about profits before anything else. Only a welfare state, public works and government emergency services funded by taxation can ensure a civilised society that can deal with man-made or natural disasters without collapsing into chaos.
Polluting our environment causes illnesses and deaths – and if we have an unequal society with no proper welfare state or public services the poorest will suffer and die from everything from lack of healthcare to pollution and environmental catastrophes.
Hurricane Katrina has shown that natural disasters can make a super-power look like a third world country when it’s run by a government that doesn’t believe in public services funded by taxation (unless they’re the police, the military or secret police and even then they favour mercenaries and part-privatisation and under-fund these services).
We’ve seen the most powerful government on earth fail tragically to protect its own citizens. There are lessons for governments on what policies work and for voters on what policies to vote. There are also lessons for each of us in how much we use cars as opposed to trains and bicycles for instance – but time, energy, health and inequality will limit what individuals can do without changes in government policies.
From Africa to America these problems can only be solved by co-operation on a large scale – and from Africa to America any country that doesn’t learn this will be vulnerable.
copyright©Duncan McFarlane 2005
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