The Uncertainty Principle

Ah! a jumped-up pantry boy / Who never knew his place

Okay. Most Big Brother contestants are pretty unpleasant. Even the good ones irritate after a few weeks and the worst housemates tend to be somewhere on the spectrum of deeply unlikable to pure evil.

At its best, though, Big Bruv Producers place a gaggle of self-obsessed try-hards in highly contrived situations and then take their hand off the tiller. Just occasionally you get flashes of pure brilliance. Like the snatches of golden dialogue of strangers overhead on public transport that throw some truths about the human condition into sharp relief.

Last night, arrogant, prejudiced wide-boy Maxwell and the new arrival, beautiful but soporific Orlaith's early conversation spoke volumes.

Orlaith: "So you like a drink?"
Maxwell: "Yeah I do [...] and that's me; I like drinking beer and watching football, quite boring really"
Orlaith: "It's not boring"
Maxwell: [reclines and warms to his subject] "No. Its fantastic. And you like wearing scarves, which I think is off the hook".

Can any male honestly put their hand up and claim that exchange is not the paradigm for any guy trying to chat to a woman considerably out of his league?

He knows before he started that he has lost this battle but seems confidently assured of his own unimpeachable victory in the end.

Somebody get me pen and ink, am going to write to Marie Clare and request a 'The Truth about Men' column for me. Every month. Possible by-line photo of me here.

Oi! What's this from the More Fire Crew!

So Jah Jah tagged me with this. He himself got it from The Norm. So this has pretty much come down to me direct from the fifth floor marked 'urgent'.

1. The total volume of music on my pc:

0. Only a battered old laptop at home. Not really capable of navigating the internets and not equipped to do so. I'd love to have the freedom to download a-go-go, burn aplenty and shuffle round MP3s on an ipod. It all flows from that initial purchase of an internet ready home PC and a broadband connection. Sadly beyond my means. I am no digital refusenik, but I do quite like the discipline of having a CD album to work through without the freedom to chop and choose tracks. That said, most of most albums, even the good ones, aren't that good and should digital music crush the very concept of an Album, I shan't mourn its loss too greatly. The format has been around for ages and we've probably got the best ones out of it by now.

2. Songs playing right now:

1% of One - Stephen Malkmus, playing on my walkman. Note to self: must buy his new album when the money comes in.

3. Last album I bought:

The Collection - Barbara Randolph.

I'd like to get into Northern Soul and Motown a bit more. I am never going to reach the stage of plying my savings into shipping over rare maxi-singles in from Japan. I just want to develop functional literacy so I know a few artists and producers I like. As far as I understand it Babs was a runt of the Motown litter never getting much love. This collection brings together her take on a lot of trusty old favourites. I got interested after I heard her cover of Marvin Gaye's 'Can I get a witness'. I defy anyone to hear this and not start funkin'. Stone, stone cold.

4. Five songs I've been listening to a lot:

West End Girls - Pet Shop Boys*
Ancient Geography - Awful Sparks**
Too Much Too Young - The Specials
(The Angels Wanna Wear my) Red Shoes - Elvis Costello
Bad Blood- Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band.

* My big brother got the album 'Please' on tape around 16/17 years ago. Somehow I got my hands on it. I am also feeling 'Suburbia', just for the record.

** My friends' 'promising indie band'. Chech the website - it has songs, sea monsters and hidden treasure. I used to play with them back in the day. Since they cleared the chaff - me - they've become really good. Also excellent live where they follow the noble punk ethic of playing way up tempo of the recorded stuff. It used to be all about dance competitions and giving away soft pornography. They're a lot more focused now.

5. Passing this along to:

Spencer [as part of my persistent campaign to get him blogging regularly], Rob Newman [no, not that Rob Newman], And of course, any passing trade that fancies getting involved.

The band became / A picture frame / Surrounding the vision he dreamt

"We have shown the example of a nation, in which every... individual of each class is constantly striving to raise himself in the social scale - not by injustice and wrong, not by violence and illegality - but by persevering good conduct, and by the steady and energetic exertion of the moral and intellectual faculties with which his Creator has endowed him...I contend that we have not in our foreign policy done anything to forfeit the confidence of the country. We may not, perhaps, in this matter or in that, have acted precisely up to the opinions of one person or of another - and hard indeed it is, as we all know by our individual and private experience, to find any number of men agreeing entirely in any matter, on which they may not be equally possessed of the details of the facts, and circumstances, and reasons, and conditions which led to action. But, making allowance for those differences of opinion which may fairly and honourably arise among those who concur in general views, I maintain that the principles which can be traced through all our foreign transactions, as the guiding rule and directing spirit of our proceedings, are such as deserve approbation...as the Roman, in days of old, held himself free from indignity, when he could say Civis Romanus sum; so also a British subject...shall feel confident that the watchful eye and the strong arm of England, will protect him against injustice and wrong" - Palmerston, 25 June 1850 in the House of Commons

"This is a union of values, of solidarity between nations and people, of not just a common market in which we trade but a common political space in which we live as citizens. It always will be. I believe in Europe as a political project. I believe in Europe with a strong and caring social dimension. I would never accept a Europe that was simply an economic market....The purpose of social Europe and economic Europe should be to sustain each other....some have suggested I want to abandon Europe's social model. But tell me: what type of social model is it that has 20m unemployed in Europe, productivity rates falling behind those of the USA; that is allowing more science graduates to be produced by India than by Europe; and that, on any relative index of a modern economy - skills, R&D, patents, IT, is going down not up. India will expand its biotechnology sector fivefold in the next five years. China has trebled its spending on R&D in the last five.Of the top 20 universities in the world today, only two are now in Europe. The purpose of our social model should be to enhance our ability to compete, to help our people cope with globalisation, to let them embrace its opportunities and avoid its dangers. Of course we need a social Europe. But it must be a social Europe that works....don't let us kid ourselves that this debate is unnecessary...The people of Europe are speaking to us. They are posing the questions. They are wanting our leadership. It is time we gave it to them."- Tony Blair, 23 June 2005 to the European Parliament

Off.The.Hook. Best speech Blair has given for quite some time; "Blau! Blau! Yes France! CAN U HANDLE IT?". If what people are saying are true about Mandleson's heavy involvement in writing it then I want him back in Number 10 scribbling full time.

Can anyone think up any good jokes around 'The Kok Report'?

Suckers write me checks / and then they go and bounce / so I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount

Up to last night, I reckon I had been sitting on a tidy crop of good luck for quite some time. I accrued the largest portion back in November 2003. Back then I was broke, up in London temporarily experiencing the world of work after leaving University the previous summer.

I was waiting to hear back from a potential job opportunity at an organisation I had already interned for and enjoyed. The lunchtime of the d-day for the decision I headed to the branch of HSBC nearest Chancery Lane on Holborn to check whether the Jakester’s exchequer would meet my grant application for an EAT prawn sandwich. Man, they were the best.

I queued behind a middle-aged city stereotype. 3-piece suit and ting. I remember red braces, but that could be an embellishment. He filed out. I went to the ATM inside the store to insert my card but before I could an unusual beeping stopped me. Looking down, the matt-grey doors of plenty opened and proffered me £30. I registered that businessman was too busy thinking about the commodities market or something to remember to actually take his cash.

'Excuse me' I said in a moderate volume after him. I paused for a second. There was a good queue behind me now and City man was out of the bank. I could so easily get away with the loot - his mistake; unforced error, £30 would mean more to penniless me etc etc etc. Despite this, I gave up my spot at the machine and pelted after him down Holborn. I asked him how much he had just taken out of the bank, he said £30, checked his wallet and found he was lacking. I handed over the wedge. ‘Thanks’ he said curtly, and walked off.

Wait a minute. No, ‘My goodness, I thought public spiritedness and gone the way of Quattro and Lyons Teahouses – vanishing just before society collapsed’. No ‘Strange, pale young man, while you are poor in worldy goods, you are indeed rich in genorsity and human spirit. Come, I shall take to dinner. No. No.No. The full three courses, plus cheese, I insist’. Or even ‘Nice one boss, you could have stung me for £30 – here’s £10 for your trouble’.

He walked off without any particular notion of gratitude. Never mind, I thought, my payback would be in getting that job I wanted. This was merely an inititive test, like on that Channel 4 programme where Liza Tarbuck gave away money. Needless to say, I didn’t get the job.

I cashed in my providence chips last night. Walking back to the tube from the gym I have to walk through one or two estates. Usually I get no grief at all, but just at the corner of City Road a noticed a collective of local rudes. While I despise in myself the white middle class liberal’s reaction of “Uh oh, estate kids – inevitable merking will follow”, I thought it prudent to sidestep any possible confrontation by peeling off down a side street and trying a different route. Too late of course, the advance party of kids on BMXs bore down on me. By this stage I could see how young and cheerful they were and wasn’t worried for my safety.

In a beatiful tactical deployment, BMXers numbers one and two zoomed off in front of me round the corner as a decoy. My brain clicks back into eleven-year-old kid mode and I realise what’s going down.

Solo BMX rider number 3 peels expertly out of formation and launches a turgid red water bomb at me. I was a sitting duck on a stretch of corner pavement with a wall behind me and my only escape was into the path of these latter day BMX bandits. The water bomb flew in a bold parabola arcing away from the thrower to explode with a satisfying squelch on the pavement a good two metres away from me. In what must have intially been thought a coup d’grace, the last BMXer set his sights on me. The second waterbomb was launched moments after the first, this one being lobbed by a kid riding pillion on the stunt bars of his mate. Unfettered by the duties of pedalling and steering his aim was better, but still feeble, catching only my right foot as I lept balletically out of the way. I was smirking and turned on my first assailiant to make some robust comment about his proficiency in the art of soaking strangers.

I did this just in time to see the kid wobble, unbalanced by his throw. In one extended movement lasting about five seconds from the initial launch of the waterbomb, the disaffected urban youth tumbled off his bicycle on a straight, flat piece of road right in front of his buddies.

I asked if he was okay, as he sat there clutching his foot. His pride was too hurt to respond. The decoy riders pedalled back to see what the fuss was about. I said to them I hadn’t touched him and he had fallen off by his own volition. I thought they might respond, but they were doubled up with laughter at their mate.

I walked off, pondering what I could do now to start building up my credit at the bank of good fortune after such a hefty withdrawal.

Beat me in the kitchen / and I'll beat you in the hall / There's nothing I love better than a free for all

"Pixies tickets last year cost me £95 each, on a face value of £25. I felt mugged, but I wanted to go incredibly badly." Simon Begley, in this article.

"Of course ticket touting should be banned. They buy at one price and sell for much more, making a huge profit in return for providing nothing at all for anybody." Hugh Parker, commenting on same article - my emphasis.

"To study Supply and Demand is to understand economics at its most basic" SocialStudiesforkids.com

Look! I'm a lefty with a right-wing opinion! get me!

What is so very wrong about buying and selling Live 8 tickets on ebay? It is not like copying the Band Aid 20 single off internets. The latter was about raising cash for Darfur and so free riders were an problem and probably did constitute the 'disgusting prostitutes' of Geldof's rhetoric.

The tickets for Live8, however, were free and the event is about raising awareness and stimulating civil society pressure on the G8 leaders and not about raising revenue for aid.

Indeed, the Live8 website proclaims, 'We don't want your money - we want you!' Tickets were distributed by random via a prize draw with a straightforward question as qualification. If a few are exchanged on ebay then will make ticket allocation more fair allowing those with more money than sense a chance to attend. These people who will shell out hundreds to see Joss Stone clearly have more disposable income than gigglers like me and so are likely to be more amenable to fundraising efforts at the event itself. Even though this is not the primary focus of the gig.

Mind you I only have Economics A Level - and that's from that Nuffield course, which was distinctly Mickey Mouse.

I work very hard but I'm lazy / I can't take the pressure and it's starting to show/ In my heart you know that it pains me / A life of leisure is no life you know

So I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I am not staying up to 6am racked with self-doubt. I am not writing anxious lyrics trying to work out some of the issues of my tortured poetic soul. I just fail to get off to sleep as quickly and emphatically as I usually do.

Not a major issue. But I am normally a great sleeper. I excel at it.

Yes Yes. When I was at school, mornings were torture - but looking back on it, I don’t remember drinking anything without sugar in it or eating anything without salt and a breadcrumb/batter coating in the period 1993-1999. I was also probably storing up a lot of angst about ‘world issues’, ‘the bomb’, ‘girls’, or just how mad I was at my parents.

Now I know the routine. Eat better, drink water, and at my 11am dip in energy, crack out the poor man’s cocaine; a mug of good coffee and a banana. Cash-back.

Today I hit myself up with the coffee and the banana trick and wait for the buzz to catch-hold. And nothing. My tolerance must have risen.

According to This BBC test-and where else should one turn at such a moment?- I shouldn't worry, even though I get under 8 hours a night:

Your sleep is fairly well optimised, scoring 53%
You said you have a problem with sleep, but you are not very sleepy during the day, which indicates your body is probably getting the sleep it needs. Quality of sleep is more important than quantity.

The results give you a host of ways to boost your napping and enable your slumber. It slapped me down for caffeine consumption, but gave me bonus points for tactical deployment of warm baths before bed.

I don't like the tone of the 'You say you have a problem with sleep' though, are they calling me a liar now? And what's all this, 'The size of your neck could mean that you snore'? Cheeky Sods! I don't pay my license fee to be dissed to my face on the internets - I can get all that at home.

Looking at my nocturnal behaviour will the cool hard hat of analysis on, maybe - just maybe - dancing over enthuisastically round my room to the Nelson Mandela by The Special AKA before bed most nights simply isn’t promoting the soothing and tranquil state needed for long effective sleep. Fun though.

Open letter to Andrew Marr

Andy,

Biggups. I heard the other week that you are resigning as Chief Political Correspondent for the Beeb and going to fill David Frost's shoes on the Sunday morning show.

I am sure the show will be great. I didn't tend to watch it when under Frosty's control to be honest. When I am up at that time on Sundays I'm all about Simon and Miquita on C4's Popworld. But for you, Mr. Marr, I will make an exception.

I don't know if you remember me. I have met you twice. I chatted to you in advance of my school's 5th Annual E.P Thompson memorial lecture back in 1999. You gave the lecture, I introduced you and helped organise the event. I am not claiming anything here, but within months you were appointed Chief Political Correspondent at the BBC. So, y'know. A year or so after that, when I wandered down an aisle of a train from the buffet, balancing a few cans of Lilt and cups with ice in, I looked up and saw you, chillin' like a villain in Coach C. We exchanged smiles, mine of recognition and delight, yours of slightly hazy recollection and discomfort, but that was it.

Now then. You're bound to be excited at your new show and that is only to be encouraged. No doubt you are eager to see your week freed-up to bash out a bit of print journalism and to spend more time with your family.

To be fair though, you will still be twiddling your thumbs a bit midweek, no? Don't worry. I have an idea for some lightweight politics-based show that I think you -and the commissioning editors of the BB-so-called-C- will be interested in.

It will be quite like The Politics Show but with more of a laid-back approach and without the laughable attempt to inject interest in "regional political issues".

The format for my proposed TV show is thus. You and me sit in a pub somewhere. We are filmed chatting about politics and current affairs issues in an informal way. And we drink. Diligent research and preparation would go into making the show seem entirely natural and unplanned, e.g. I notice a weighty document in your satchel and exclaim "Blimey Andy, you haven't gone and got that EU constitution out of the library have you?" Witty repartie and astute analysis would follow.

The programme could be quite short and punchy and edited down to fifteen minutes or so, so it wouldn't take up your whole evening. You could let the production team know that I reckon we could do it quite cheaply, filming in a pub somewhere in North London. Plus, we get bare free drinks on a school night! Imagine that! Do you like Real Ale too?

We could theme the banter around the few big news stories of the week, the G8 presidency, the Tory leadership etc. You would inform the discussion with your extensive experience and political insights. I would be able to put forward some half-formed ideas and opinions stolen from newspapers or blogs I read.

To keep things heady and fresh, the structure would be pretty discursive. I know from your appearance on Saturday Kitchen that you are fond of cooking. Me too! We could talk cuisine, dinner party quick fixes and throw up wildcards like 'does the Starter have a future?' if you like. This would open up opportunities for special guest stars to drop by our pub and 'interact'. For example, Gordon Ramsay could come round and call us both "Cun*s" for putting pomegranate in our risottos or something.

Naturally to add interest, and make the pub environment appear 'real', there would be a couple of regulars we could 'interact' with on a regular basis. Adrian Chiles could be playing on the trivia machine. Constantly.

I understand the Flava Flav of Public Enemy is something of a reality TV star now. He would make an excellent barman, throwing a curveball into our chat at certain points. Plus, as you have probably already realised, Flav's history of wearing clocks as fashion accessories since the 1980s would allow him to make a hilarious visual gag around calling 'Time Gentlemen Please' at the end of every episode. This, I predict, would rapidly become his catchphrase.

Obviously this idea is in its gestation period, but I wanted to flag it up early and try and get some dates in your diary. Let me know what you think.

Peace. One Love.

Jakester

Now it's my turn to talk and your turn to think / Your turn to buy and my turn to drink

To the extent that it's a competition. Texas win. They have more industrial wasteland than we do. They don't apologise, it makes them better than France. I love that.

I think it is important to bear these positives of confectionery and national character in mind when considering that the President's advisors put it about that climate change is a European invention founded on jealousy of American economic performance. Even when this flies in the face of scientific consensus.

When making up your mind about a whole nation, you have to strive for balance after all. Yes, they are wrong. But to be so dramatically and publicly wrong, to defend a notion of American liberty in the face of opposition from the rest of the world and a mound of empirical evidence transgresses the boundary and becomes respectable, even slightly admirable. The Black Knight in the Holy Grail.

I don't know what you take me as / or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has

One of my under-researched ideas for a thesis is the public sector's misguided worship of some private sector values.

There's a lot of amusing anecdotes from early medieval Europe about English missionaries who go out to Francia and Saxony and try and convert the Barbarian heathen. The Merovingian, Lombard and other Barbarian kings seem to take on the message in some cases, zealously. However, the missionaries return to check on the progress made to find a failure to get to grips with the basic structures monotheism. So one Barbarian King, Reowald - I think, listened carefully to the benefits and opportunities that Christianity offered and took the paraphernalia and fringe benefits gleefully. When St. Boniface or some other English chancer pops back to check all is well, he finds the pagan temples still standing and just having had a further altar for sacrifice added. After all, once you've got a good range of gods being worshipped, one more isn't going to do any harm is it?

Since the Next Steps reforms of the 1980s, the civil service has been made increasingly 'customer focused' and 'outcome orientated'. I've got no beef with this, but it does produce some amusing admixtures.

Corporations are keen to believe their own spin to build themselves up, motivate their workforce and drive themselves on to bigger and better things. So Disney's self proclaimed mission is to, 'Make people happy'. Okay they might try and flog you all kinds of tack in order to do this, but its fundamental aim is -I think- quite beautiful. The same lofty aspirations don't sit quite so comfortably in the argot of the British public services, however.

Recently, all Whitehall departments have been publishing their Five-Year strategies. Obvious jokes about Stakanovites and Stalin aside, this a good idea. Some of the titles are unintentionally hilarious in the claims they make. Ladies and gentlemen I give you,

• Department of Culture Media and Sport, Living Life to the Full; and,
• Department for Environment Food and Rural Affairs, Providing the Essentials of Life

On a random tip, I have a spare ticket to the recording of the News Quiz tomorrow night near Tottenham Court Road. Anybody want to come with?

UPDATE: Sod you lot. I am going to go the News Quiz on my own.