Chip & Pin

What annoys you most about Chip & Pin? Apart from the fact that you may have lost thousands if your card has been cloned, of course?

For me, it's the fact that (I assume) the checkout operator's workstation indicates that the card machine is ready to accept your PIN a fraction of a second before the card machine itself does. That's the only reason I can think of to explain the EXTREMELY IRRITATING fact that, at the very split-second the machine displays "Please enter your PIN" the checkout person will say "can you put your PIN in please?"

Yes!! I *know* I have to put my PIN in for God's sake! I was waiting for the machine to tell me it was ready! I can't type it in BEFORE, can I? So just shut up and give me a chance to do what I already knew I would have to do, at the time I'm invited to do it!

Actually I've developed a kind of sixth sense that tells me when the machine is about to ask me for my PIN, so I can start putting it in AS THE PROMPT APPEARS! Brilliant. I can't tell you how satisfying it was the first time the words "can you put your PIN in please?" died in the throat of the checkout girl as she realised I was already halfway through it.

Small pleasures :o)

Oxymorons

You've got to laugh, haven't you? Well at least, I did this morning walking through Westminster on my way to another of those interminable government meetings. I saw three things that ordinarily would have made me smile quietly to myself, or chuckle, but in the way of things comic their effect was cumulative, so by the time I came across the third I laughed out loud:

1. London cabs

Some of these have now started sporting the strapline "London black cabs - so much more than just a taxi" (or something like that). But are they though? No, not really. A taxi is a taxi - except of course for the legal difference between a hackney cab and a private hire vehicle. Why in today's world is it necessary to employ whizz-kid marketeers to tell us that something is "so much more" than it really is? I know what a taxi does. I know what it looks like. If it's raining, or I'm in a hurry, or where I'm going is too far to walk, I'll hail a cab. Otherwise I won't bother. I know how it works and what to expect. Why should I have to expect "so much more"? What else is there? Is the cabbie going to start offering me financial advice? Make me a BLT with tangy mayo to go? Cut my hair? No. Well, apart from the financial advice of course. Cabbies have been offering this unsolicited since time immemorial.

2. Scotland Yard.

The Met have employed the strapline "working together for a safer London" for some years now, but it's been a while since I've walked past their HQ. Last time I was there it looked quite accessible, but in the interim it has been surrounded by a steel-and-toughened-glass blast shield that could probably withstand the force of a Saturn V rocket from three feet. On top of that, the main door is protected with half-a-dozen of those thick concrete blocks that crop up in semi- permanent motorway repairs because they stay standing when hit by an articulated truck doing 60mph. So, lads, are we expecting trouble? Not QUITE achieved "a safer London" yet, then?

3. City of Westminster Cleaning Department.

My walk was briefly interrupted by a reversing council refuse collection vehicle (in the days before Political Correctness, we used to call them bin lorries) . This sparkly new vehicle was emblazoned with the words "Clean Streets" in two-foot-high green letters. As the driver completed his reversing manoeuvre, he flipped his cigarette butt out of the window onto the street, which heretofore had, presumably as a result of his colleagues' efforts, been Clean. Physician, heal thyself.

Freedom!

If you believe that open access to information is a good thing
If you believe, as a UK TV licence payer, that anyone in the world should have access to the archive material controlled by the BBC but which YOU have paid to create
If you believe that British values are worth promulgating in a world increasingly divided and misguided
If you believe that creativity would be nurtured, fostered and encouraged by being able to use, reuse and adapt material created by some of the most talented artists on the planet

...then you need to get yourself over to http://www.freeculture.org.uk/letters/CreativeArchiveLetter and sign the petition being run by the Open Knowledge Foundation and Free Culture UK to persuade the BBC to open their archives to the world.

Some small degree of access is already being set up by the BBC, and good on them for that, but a culture of restriction, licensing and control still pervades Auntie. In the 21st century, the world needs a better way. Go on, do your bit.

CP's Visit Report #1

Well my mate and writing partner CP arrived from Seattle yesterday into a squall of Manchester's finest mist.

This is her first visit to the UK and she is wired. She's brought with her a whole pile of writing ideas that we'll be doing together, some exercises to open up my throat for karaoke nights, and lots more besides. Jeez we're gonna be so busy we'll hardly have time for all the sight-seeing I had planned!

We did the 50c tour of the (unsold!) house, chewed the fat for a couple of hours until jet-lag set in and later we treated her to her first traditional English meal. Sorry to be predictable but what else than...fish and chips? With mushy peas? You bet.

We crammed more laughs into that first 12 hours than I believed possible but one of the best was when she said she was looking forward to seeing some British TV...and the major viewing we had lined up for the evening was the American Idol Final! Hahaha!! She'd already seen it live on Wednesday night, so was sworn to secrecy.

You won't believe the excitement we have arranged for today! A trip to Tesco's. Yes, I know, we're pushing the boat right out here. If word of this gets round we could become 2006's holiday destination of choice.

Come on! Move!

This moving house lark is a pain in the arse innit? That guy I told you about before, our first viewer? We thought he wasn't gonna come at all but then it turned out he'd got lost. He loved the house (allegedly), as did his girlfriend. In fact, it was our house he was "really interested in" according to the agent. That was a week ago and we've not heard anything from him since.

We had a second viewing though, mid-week. Be still my beating heart. This lady brought her entire family with her. I'm not kidding there must have been second- and third-cousins in the mix, godchildren, next-door-neighbours. I started to wonder if they were testing the capacity of our house for parties. She loved the house (allegedly) and could "see herself living here." Then she phoned the agent to say unfortunately it was out of their price range. So why did you come and look at it then? Sheesh.

Still let's look on the bright side. Four weeks in and we've already had twice as many viewings as when we tried to sell it last year. That's got to be a good sign. Hasn't it?

Take a moment to lament...

...the passing of postage stamps.

"Have they passed?" I hear you ask, "I still use first-class stamps."

Indeed you do, as do I, but increasingly I'm finding (like today when I just popped out to the Post Office to mail a package to some friends in Canada) that our beautifully designed and colourful stamps with various face values are being replaced by boring white stickers, computer-generated and printed to the correct postage value in an unprepossessing light gray ink.

Yuk!

Where are the striking butterflies of iridescent hue? The celebrations of Britain's engineering heritage? The commemoration of Doctor Who's twenty-fifth anniversary?

One more step towards a colourless future of blighted bureaucracy and compromised culture.

Someone's coming!

Whooot! Got a phone call from the estate agent yesterday - someone's actually coming to view the house next Saturday! Be still my beating heart. We called into the agents for the people we want to buy from too, to find out why they haven't sent us confirmation in writing that our offer was accepted. Turns out they mailed it to #159 instead of #195! Sheesh! Even worse, there were THREE other people booked in to view OUR house that day. Oh God, please don't let any of them like it. The kitchen is way too small!! You can't cope with it having a laundry in the fourth bedroom! You don't like the road that much, do you? Just give us a week until this guy comes to see ours and buys it, and then our dream house will be off the market and all will be well and all will be well and all manner of things will be well.

I'm not stressed at all by this. Oh no.

Take the testosterone out of driving

Every day I'm out there on the motorways around the country, and Manchester in particular, there seems to be more mad-heads on the road.

Explain this to me:
When you're driving along a motorway behind a long queue of traffic all sitting in the right-hand lane (the OVERTAKING lane, note) and no-one is overtaking because they are all lined up behind each other; when the middle lane (also an OVERTAKING lane, note) is completely empty for at least five cars in front; when you decide to use that space and accelerate forward gently, not aggressively, and pass that queue of cars at no more than +1 or +2 mph faster than they are travelling; when you catch up with the last car in the middle lane having passed those five or so cars that weren't overtaking; when you continue to coast in the middle lane for at least another two miles; when you then indicate and pull out slowly into the OVERTAKING lane again, into a gap that is six- to seven-car lengths long and the person you are pulling in front of is at least two hundred metres behind you...

When all those conditions exist, as they did at approximately 12:00 on Saturday last, WHY THEN does that person you have pulled out in front of think it's a good idea suddenly to accelerate for all he's worth to try and block your entry into the OVERTAKING lane and, when it becomes obvious that he can't do that because there was just too much space to catch up (so WHY did it bother him so much, when he wasn't making much progress before?), WHY does he then think it's a good idea to overtake you on the inside at speed, cutting past you with only a foot or so room, and then PULL IN in front of you, into the gap between you and the car in front which is now only marginally longer than a single car's length?

Having behaved like a total moron, why does he then sit in front of you, occasionally touching his brakes to cause you to also brake, until he is less than 50 yards from the exit he needs at which point he heads at something less than a 45 degree angle for the exit, cutting across three lanes of traffic in the space of those 50 yards?

Does this make him a better driver than you? Does it make him more of a man than you? Does it alleviate some strange imagined attack on his driver machismo?

Well mate...driver of the rather sad looking black Mondeo, license plate that looked ALMOST like a private plate but one bought by someone with not much money so that you have to really struggle to understand exactly how it can be a private plate but it obviously is intended to be because it's a V-reg on an almost-new car...well, I don't think it proves any of these things.

But that's just me.

You might think I was in the wrong in the first place for overtaking on the inside, but this was a long queue of cars all travelling at the same speed all in the outside lane with nothing on their left. Why were they there? The fact that I could undertake them so slowly, wait a couple of miles and then pull into a massive space all adds up to a careful considered manoeuvre in my book. One that is perfectly acceptable in many civilised countries with roads a lot less congested than our own (America, Canada...). Why does it cause such hostile negative reactions from moronic Mondeo drivers?

It's a mystery.

War of the Worlds - MEN Arena

We went to see Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds tonight at M.E.N. Arena.

Wow.

I've been a fan of this since its release in 1978 but to see it live on stage for the first time was an experience I'm sure everyone in the audience tonight will be talking about for years to come. One of those concerts where those who missed it will never forgive themselves.

While there's still a chance to see it, I wouldn't want to give anything away to spoil the show. Suffice to say the original artists are just as good as they were 30 years ago, and the replacements every bit as good as the originals (with apologies to David Essex and the late great Phil Lynott). The CGI was amazing, the real-life scenes totally believable and the lighting simply awesome, especially the red pencil-spots that swept the audience in imitation of the heat rays.

A stunning sensory feast in every way.

See http://www.thewaroftheworlds.com/ for more on how the live show is being received.

Doctor Who - the second series kicks off

And suddenly, there it was at last: Series 2, episode 1.

Long awaited, much trailered and perhaps the most hotly anticipated start to a TV series since .. well, since Series 1.

All in all, it was a good start, but for those of us who have been watching since the real Series 1, since the dark and distant days of 1963, I can't help thinking that it's all a bit quick. You know, we used to have entire stories spread out over four, six, or even eight episodes. A cliff-hanger at the end of every one.

The Doctor lands, and spends most of episode 1 scoping out the terrain of the new place. You might catch a glimpse of the resident alien right at the end of that first episode, or even (gasp!) have to wait until episode 2 to really get a clue what's going on.

Now?

He lands, pretty assistant by his side (some things don't change, thank God!) and within 45 minutes he's arrived at the right location, discovered the problem, avoided the bad guys, worked out what's wrong, fixed it and left again. A kind of scientifically-enhanced emergency plumber.

This isn't even a virtual 45 minutes, you understand. We get no clues about extra time passing by. There's no "later that day" or "fade into next week." He really does do the whole bit in 45 minutes. Frankly, it stretches credibility.

You'll probably say that today's audiences demand instant gratification. They need the pace to be break-neck. They have no patience or attention span for anything above the level of the Playstation. Is that right, though? Isn't it a self-fulfilling assumption? Isn't it worth at least giving longer stories a try?

Last season included some two-parters, as will this season. I found them much more satisfying and rounded. Two 45-minute episodes is equivalent to three episodes of the old show and is long enough to flesh things out a bit. I wonder what three episodes would be like? Even better, I'd suggest. More demanding on the storyteller, to be sure. Harder to keep the interest up. But worth it, IMO.