9) The Political Animal: An Anatomy, by Jeremy Paxman.

I met Jeremy Paxman, one of Britain’s leading political journalists, twice in 1994, in my capacity as the captain of the Queen’s University of Belfast’s team in University Challenge (the British TV show where teams from different universities take each other on in a general knowledge quiz). He was as acerbic and funny is person as he is on the screen. I remember him growling at me to hurry up and answer a particular question, “Come on, some of us have got homes to go to!” He revealed to us that his least favourite person in the then failing Major government was health secretary Virginia Bottomley. “She never says anything when I interview her.” She was probably as frightened of him as we were. He says in the first chapter,

I have met literally hundreds of politicians. Some I have come to like, others to respect, and one or two I have learned must be handled as if they are radioactive. I know that the last feeling is reciprocated by some, but there is – or ought to be – a natural tension between reporters and politicians, and I am not close to any of them. It is easier that way.

This book is no mere pot-boiler. I get the sense that Paxman is genuinely puzzled by what makes politicians tick; why they subject themselves to humiliation by constituency selection committees, fellow MPs, party leaders, and Paxman and his own colleagues in the press, and why, as Enoch Powell (once our neighbour here in Loughbrickland) observed, all political careers end in failure. He doesn’t come up with a systematic reply but does have a lot of amusing anecdotes and one or two good observations – 24 out of the UK’s 51 prime ministers lost their fathers before the age of 21, for instance. He talks to one of the two people in England with a personal subscription to Hansard, the official record of parliamentary debates, and asks him, why? And gets the charming answer, “I’m very old, you know. I’m over ninety. And I think I’m pretty mad.”

To those who know me it’s no big secret that I am attracted to the idea of being a politician. I’ve stood for election twice, in 1990 and 1996, though did pretty dismally both times. One striking thing is that the very academically gifted tend not to do very well in politics. Only one American president, and as far as I know no British prime minister, has gained a PhD. Paxman points out that the three prime ministers of the twentieth century with the best academic qualifications by far were Asquith, Eden and Wilson, none of them howling successes. He has obviously benefited from a long chat with my former mentor John Alderdice, who I always felt was far too intelligent to be at the heart of politics (the fact that he was party leader for almost 11 years, having taken on the job at the age of 33, shows the weakness of the party as much as the strength of his own talent). A political consultant, quoted by Paxman, is told that political parties ought to try and attract “low-fliers” (as Anne points out, not quite the same thing as the academically ungifted).

Paxman spends a lot of time lambasting the primitive set-up of the British political system, especially the entire architecture and procedure of the Westminster parliament. But the only modest reform he supports is to allow ministers who are MPs to be allowed to speak in relevant debates in the House of Lords, and vice versa. Quite apart from the questions one should ask about the composition of the House of Lords, this misses one of the biggest blind spots in the British constitutional tradition – the requirement that ministers must be members of one or other house, carried through slavishly to the Oireachtas and the unicameral chambers in Stormont, Edinburgh and Cardiff. Surely if most of Europe and the U.S. can manage by separating the legislative and executive, the UK and Ireland could consider this too? I need to work up a proper rant about this for publication somewhere

It ends up a bit scrappy but there are a lot of things to like about this book. Paxman retains a certain affection for, and understanding of, Northern Ireland, which he mentions several times (indeed I think he give us proportionally more attention than Wales of Scotland). The bibliography cites a huge number of political memoirs – I estimate roughly a hundred autobiographies and about the same number of biographical studies – but almost all British, with a very few Americans and no continentals (or even Irish). Paxman is gracious enough to acknowledge assistance in this part of the writing by Alex von Tunzelmann, former editor of the Oxford student newspaper Cherwell. I shall look out for her work in future.

8) Hard to Swallow: The Abandoned Comedy Routines of John Dowie, Illustrated by Hunt Emerson

Picked this up trying to cure insomnia caused by overindulgence at and ‘s wedding. Why are comedy routines never as funny when you read them written down compared to when you see them on stage? (Perhaps because you are usually sober, and not surrounded by other people laughing, when reading them off the page.) Emerson’s cartoons are fun as usual though I suspect nothing like Dowie’s stage act. The one illustrating the script about haemorrhoids will stay with me for a long time.

and ‘s wedding on Friday was great fun. The first registry office wedding we’ve been to in Ireland, though we’ve done them in England and Germany, and this was by far the nicest of the three. No actual readings – the ceremony was very short – but very heartening affirmations of the couple’s love and devotion for each other. As with all these occasions, it reminded us very strongly and happily of our own wedding in 1993. We had time after the registry office bit to go to Hodges Figgis and spend €€€ on books, and then headed in to the Ashling Hotel for the reception. We were at the same table as and , and there may well have been other lj’ers around who I didn’t identify. Also very glad to see Gerry Doyle again, and good chats with Eimear Ni Mhealoid. The speeches were also great – funny and the right sort of length. I shall be on the lookout for a good context to use ‘s closing toast, “Live Long and Prosper!”

Unfortunately I’d been kicked out of bed by our small people, delightful though they are, before six a.m., and then spent the next few hours of the morning worrying intensely about the brewing trouble in South Ossetia and other matters, so simply wasn’t in shape to stick around for the dancing and later celebrations, which was a real shame as it looked like it was going to be excellent. and both looked radiantly happy, though has, startlingly, grown his hair to almost a whole centimetre in length and is a bit thinner after her recent health travails though she otherwise looks in pretty good form. (Bumped into on the way out, though I don’t think he recognised me.) We went back to my mother’s house and were asleep not long after nine.

Finally tracked this down:

“You will find us only on the very best atlases, because we are the smallest country left in Europe… a self-respecting country which deserves and sometimes achieves a colour of its own on the map – usually a dyspeptic mint green, which misses the outline of the frontier by a fraction of an inch, so that one can almost hear the printer saying damn.” – the General, in Peter Ustinov’s play Romanoff and Juliet.

Well, well, so the Finnish Liberal got the Balkan portfolio, and the Austrian got the European Neighbourhood policy. I’m trying to have a holiday but I have to do some hacking nonetheless…

7) The Ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha (Part I), by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

I decided to read this because the Norwegian book clubs survey put it at the top of their list of the 100 best novels of all time. It’s surprisingly approachable, for Great Literature, but very long at almost 1000 pages in the Penguin edition, so I’ve given myself a break after finishing the first part, as published in 1605 (almost 400 years ago), and will leave the second part, of 1615, for some later time.

It reminds me of nothing so much as Tristram Shandy, except that it has a far more coherent plot (this is not saying much of course). Don Quixote himself is gloriously delusional, and of course unwittingly plays a satirical role in exposing the workings of society. Interesting too that the distance between his society of 1605 and ours of 2004 seems much less than the distance between 1605 and the medieval world of chivalry which he imagines himself to inhabit. Of course Quixote’s medieval world is a creation of fantasy, and his 1605 is rooted very firmly in contemporary reality.

Apart from the narrative frame of Don Quixote himself and his delusions, there are lots of romantic sub-plots – actually so distinct from one another that you could almost call them novellas – some of which eventually get tied together in a way that is reminiscent of Wodehouse. Added to that, the geopolitical tension of Spain vs the Islamic world of North Africa is eerily reminiscent of another modern genre – the beautiful Zoraida almost seems like an ancestor of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.

For all that, I’m not utterly convinced that this really is the best novel of all time. I’m sure it deserves honour and celebration as being the first (or among the first) attempts to write a novel per se. But to say that is a bit like Johnson’s remark about a woman preaching being like a dog walking on its hind legs, the impressive thing being not that it is done well but that it is done at all. Perhaps if I ever get around to the second half it will make more of an impact on me.

5) After the King: Stories in Honor of J.R.R. Tolkien, ed Martin H Greenberg, introduction by Jane Yolen

I picked this up for €5 or so, remaindered in the Leuven bookshop, and was very pleasantly surprised. Nineteen short stories by various fantasy authors, all more or less in the Tolkien vein; two or three clunkers (Dennis McKiernan, Mike Resnick), but the average being very good and several excellent – Stephen Donaldson, Gregory Benford, and a particularly impressive foray by John Brunner, who eschewed the fantasy setting chosen by most of the others and wrote a piece set in England in 1921. I had read the Terry Pratchett piece somewhere else (“She’s always going on about billy goats. I have no knowledge whatsoever about billy goats”) but I am surprised not to have encountered any of the others before – this collection was published in 1992 for the centenary of Tolkien’s birth. Perhaps that just shows how little fantasy I read as compared to sf.

4) Beyond Infinity, by Gregory Benford

Last of the books from Infinity Plus for review. I liked it. Based on his shorter “Beyond the Fall of Night” and very much in the tradition of Arthur C Clarke with nods to Stapledon and Aldiss.

From :

Doing fine – although the boat trip from Holyhead with B was not pleasant, small people seem to be having fun now that we’ve got here, and so are we.

Went to a fantastic restaurant called the Oriel in Gilford, of all places, last night. Best food I’ve had since the Caucasus in May.

Must go to airport to pick up mother-in-law now, while simultaneously doing my fifth telephone interview of the day re yesterday’s Macedonia report…

3) Felaheen, by Jon Courtenay Grimwood

The third in Grimwood’s Ashraf Bey trilogy, set in an early 21st century North Africa where the Ottoman and German Empires never fell (though Russia is nonetheless soviet) and which is otherwise not very different from our own time-line (to the extent of having the same computer operating systems). Apart from the alternate history aspect, other sf elements include the hero’s electronic alter ego and the fact that Tunis is under international sanctions for unauthorised genetic manipulation experiments. I like this series as much for the sultry, sensual prose as for the intricate plot and striking characterisations. This one didn’t disappoint. However now that Ashraf Bey has reached a certain point in his political career I hope his creator will move on to other things – as long as they are as enjoyable as this.

2) The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald

One of the “classics” I’ve set myself as summer reading, and much the shortest of them (the others being Little Women, Crime and Punishment and Don Quixote). Yes, a very good short novel, with the setting of 1920s New York and Long Island vividly described, including barely surreptitious widespread use of alcohol and a surprising amount of promiscuity, but overlying this a much more interesting story of personal aspiration. Strongly recommended.

ObBalkans: Gatsby had a war medal awarded to him by the King of Montenegro.

1) The Year of Our War, by Steph Swainston

Well, this is depressing. A Cambridge graduate, like me, who has dabbled in archaeology, like me, and now works in vaguely international relations stuff, like me, but is about six years younger and has produced a stormingly good first novel. Enough to put whatever writing ambitions I may have entertained skulking back behind the closet where they belong. Thanks to Cheryl Morgan and others for flagging this one up as a first novel to be taken seriously. It is.

My only substantial complaint is that I thought the book was too short for the large number of characters jostling for narrative attention. But various other bits worked really well for me; the narrator with his drug habit, the defenders against an inhuman menace turning on each other, the tension between mortals and immortals in a world where immortality is won by challenge. At first I feared that the habit of yet another unexpected revelation about the back-story every other chapter (characters unexpectedly turning out to be married, that kind of thing) would get tedious but she stopped once we had got the main points established, though this still leaves us wildly surmising about the rest of it.

I wondered why there was something vaguely familiar about the entire set-up, and then I realised that to a certain extent Swainston has based the relations between her characters on what could be observed in any large organisation’s office politics – squabbles over the fringe benefits for spouses, who’s chasing whose job, and the perpetual struggle for the boss’s ear. I would have mild complaints about the names (one minor character is called Leigh Delamere – groan!) which are not really up to George R.R. Martin level, let alone Tolkien, but at least she’s not anywhere near as painful as Robert Jordan. On the whole, pretty good stuff.

12) The Story of Alice, by Mavis Batey

Picked this up off the in-laws’ bookshelves thinking it would prove just an attempt to rip off the Alice in Wonderland fans, but in fact it’s rather good, especially given the length (less than 100 pages), illustrating bits of the back-story to Dodgson’s writing and relationship with Alice. Batey has done a lot of (or at least has fluently recounted other people’s) historical research, tying specific events in real-life Oxford of 1859-63 with specific events in the books. Very neat; I just wish there had been proper footnotes so that I knew which bits were her own research and which from other people, and ideas for what else I might read on the subject. I’m sure a lot of it is hers; a quick google reveals that she’s done a lot of historical research on both literary figures and gardens.

Apart from Dodgson and Alice, the other star of the book is the place they both lived, Christ Church, the grandest of the Oxford colleges. I spent a weekend there in 1990 as a steward at a conference for an organisation which I won’t name, but which was sometimes nicknamed “toffs against terrorism” by cruel insiders. The conference set-up was a little informal, verging on the chaotic, and a senior British government figure joked in his closing speech that this was only appropriate in the college of Lewis Carroll.

There were a number of early departures and the conference organiser asked me if I knew anyone in Oxford to invite to fill gaps in the conference dinner. As it happened my great-uncle is a retired doctor who worked most of his life in Oxford and sill lives there. He was brought up a staunch Presbyterian in Belfast (his sister, my grandmother, converted to Catholicism in the 1930s but her family have long since got over it) so I knew he would be interested, and indeed he was. Over dinner he got chatting to a Fine Gael TD and told a story I hadn’t heard before, about why his parents had moved back to Belfast from Dublin where he was born – apparently my great-grandfather was one of the civil servants who was marched out of the Customs House at gunpoint in May 1921, and had told his children many times of being forced to be part of a human barricade while the British troops closed in on the IRA men who were burning the building down.

The Fine Gael TD looked as if she didn’t quite know how to take my great-uncle’s story. I later discovered that her great-uncle was Michael Collins, who of course was responsible for the Customs House attack (though I note that the Neil Jordan film portrays him as thinking it was a stupid idea).

This conversation took place in the Great Hall of Christ Church which itself played a role in a different civil conflict – it was the place where the MPs and peers still loyal to Charles I met as a pro-Royalist parliament from 1642 to 1646, while Oxford was the Cavaliers’ capital. Charles himself ruled from a temporary palace in the Deanery of Christ Church, where just over two centuries years later Alice Liddell’s father would reside as Dean.

It’s all interconnected somehow.

Fergal’s bithday party went well, thanks for asking; just two hours of exhausting work for us. I actually spent most of the time looking after his sisters, while he and his three little friends played under the supervision of Anne and the babysitter.

We had a good long chat today with a friend of my mother-in-law (m-i-l herself is actually a retired psychiatrist who specialised in children with learning disabilities, but has never tried to impose her professional credentials on us, thank goodness) who does assessments for the local autism unit (or whatever it is). She reckoned that Fergal is behind with his expressive language, but ahead in all kinds of other ways and anyway nowhere near the autistic spectrum. More or less what we thought too but good to have it confirmed by a professional. If the Belgians can give him extra speech therapy (through Dutch, of course) it he next school year presumably that will help.

The journey here yesterday was more hassle than expected. We set off a bit late, and picked up B from her respite care place on the other side of Brussels. At that point I had to decide whether to head for Calais by going north to Ninove and then west via Gent and the coast, or aternatively south to Engien and then west via Enghien, Ath, and Lille. We’d heard a traffic bulletin to the effect that the motorway was closed around Ath shortly after we left home, but then later traffic bulletins didn’t refer to the problem (and did say that the Gent road was pretty congested), so I headed south as it appeared to be the shorter route. We were listening to CDs in the car but the radio is set to interrupt with traffic bulletins as and when it picks them up.

The earlier traffic bulletin was right. Ath was completely closed off as a result of a huge explosion which had killed 15 people, mosty firefighters. The whole surrounding countryside was closed down in a state of emergency; Enghien was full of grim-faced policemen preventing anyone from heading west. It’s odd that the later traffic bulletins made no reference to it; OK we happened to be picking up the Flemish service, but the first one we heard, which did mention the problem, was also in Flemish. Maybe they just asumed everyone was listening to the news – obviously it displaced everything else in Belgian media yesterday (and probably today as well). But we didn’t get the details until listening to the BBC once we were in England.

The upside for us was that our new route took us further south via Mons, and we passed by the front of SHAPE (Supremem Headquarters Allied Powers Europe) which was flying the flags of all the NATO members – now of course including several countries that were either behind the Iron Curtain or part of larger countries or both only 15 years ago. It is rather heartwarming to see visual evidence like that of the reunited Europe. We puzzled for a few minutes about why the alphabetical order semed to have been broken with the Czech Republic between Poland and Romania, and Spain between Denmark and Estonia. Then it occurred to us that this was French orthography – la République Tchèque and Espagne. But it wasn’t consistent for the UK or USA. Now that I think about it, perhaps it was the listing of the countries’ names in their own languages? No, now that I check it out, the Czech for “Czech Republic” is Česka Republika. It must remain a mystery.

We made a mistake after reaching Calais by deciding to press on into the Channel Tunnel immediately and then going for a late lunch at Maidstone service station in Kent. Note for future – the terminal at Calais has a MacDonald’s and is basically child-friendly. Maidstone has a (eurrgh) Wimpy and is not. However one of the Eurotunnel staff took a liking to F, who is now old enough to get really excited by the idea of going into a tunnel under the sea. And let’s face it, it is fundamentally thrilling; when I was his age, the idea of a channel tunnel seemed completely absurd. Now it’s an extraordinarily ordinary thing to do – turn up, drive your car onto the train, and 35 minutes later you’re in England. (Or France, depending.) And we made it to the in-laws’ by about 7.30 UK time, so total journey of around ten hours (probably lengthened by an hour and a half by the explosion in Ath).

Having got here I’ve found the book about Tolkien which I glanced at last summer and that I thought was by Tom Shippey. Turns out it’s not; it was Master of Middle-Earth: The Fiction of J. R. R. Tolkien by Paul Kocher, first published in 1972. I skimmed through it this morning (not with sufficient attention to make it worth adding to the booklog) and concluded a) that Shippey’s book is still quite an advance from the Tolkienology of 30 years ago but b) that Lin Carter’s book looks even more crap in comparison with what serious academics were already writing about Tolkien.

I’d like to read more about a) Tolkien and Ireland, b) Tolkien and his wife, c) Tolkien and Robert E Howard. Any suggestions?

OK folks, blogging has been a bit slow this week as I tried (and ultimately succeeded) in getting a Macedonia paper off my desk before heading back to Ireland for three weeks. We’ll all be in Ireland from Sunday night till the 20th of August. Best way to track me down is via the contact meme, unless I see you at and ‘s wedding.

David Owen on illness and political leadership

Physics theories and girlfriends

Ann Coulter’s piece about the Democratic Convention that USA Today thought was of insufficient quality (plus USA Today’s editorial comments)

with thanks to the usual suspects.

…in 208 different languages.

Bold the ones you’ve done, then add five more at the end of the list, three of which you’ve done. (From .) Here goes.

01. …bought everyone in the pub a drink
02. …swum with wild dolphins
03. …climbed a mountain (haven’t climbed a real one, though I’ve reached the top of various little Irish peaks)
04. …taken a Ferrari/Corvette/Porsche for a test drive
05. …seen the Pyramids at night
06. …held a tarantula
07. …taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. …said ‘I love you’ and meant it
09. …hugged a tree
10. …done a striptease
11. …done a bungee or parachute jump
12. …visited Paris
13. …watched a lightning storm at sea
14. …cleaned behind the fridge
15. …stayed up all night long, and watched the sun rise
16. …asked a question you’ve always been too embarrassed to ask
17. …seen the Northern Lights
18. …gone to a huge sports game
19. …created your own masterpiece
20. …grown and eaten your own vegetables
21. …touched an iceberg
22. …had an office relationship
23. …slept under the stars
24. …compromised
25. …changed a baby’s nappy/diaper
26. …taken a ride in a hot air balloon
27. …watched a meteor shower
28. …gotten drunk on champagne
29. …taken a luxury holiday
30. …given more than you can afford to charity
31. …looked up at the night sky through a telescope
32. …had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
33. …had a food fight
34. …bet on a winning horse/dog
35. …taken a sick day when you’re not ill
36. …gotten a pet
37. …asked a stranger out
38. …had a snowball fight
39. …photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier
40. …screamed as loudly as you possibly can
41. …held a lamb
42. …enacted a favorite fantasy
43. …taken a midnight skinny dip
44. …heard the words ‘I love you’
45. …flown on Concorde
46. …taken an ice cold bath
47. …had a meaningful conversation with a beggar
48. …seen a total eclipse
49. …ridden a roller coaster
50. …hit a home run
51. …fit three weeks miraculously into three days
52. …danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
53. …adopted an accent for an entire day
54. …visited the birthplace of your ancestors
55. …given a grand romance with costumes and everything
56. …made up a screenname to stalk someone
57. …gone shopping for no reason
58. …actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
59. …ask to “just be held”
60. …had an adventure where nothing goes as planned
61. …kissed someone you truly wanted to kiss
62. …gone clubbing and thought to yourself, “I could out-dance them if I wanted to”
63. …called your relatives by their relationship
64. …had two hard drives for your computer
65. …cuddled
66. …visited all 50 states
67. …loved your job
68. …taken care of someone who was shit-faced
69. …had enough money to be truly satisfied
70. …had amazing friends
71. …danced with a stranger in a foreign country
72. …swum during a formal
73. …stolen a sign
74. …backpacked in Europe
75. …taken a road-trip
76. …gone rock climbing
77. …had your nose pierced
78. …had a midnight walk on the beach
79. …gone sky diving (note: this is a duplicate)
80. …visited Ireland
81. …seen what you wanted and done all it took to seize it
82. …fallen in love, then fallen harder and faster from heartbreak
83. …in a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had lunch/dinner with them
84. …visited and/or toured Japan
85. …benchpressed your own weight
86. …stolen from your parents
87. …alphabetized your records
88. …done your own taxes
89. …pretended to be a superhero
90. …sung karaoke
91. …made someone cry for no good reason
92. …lounged around in bed all day
93. …posed nude in front of a room full of strangers
94. …dressed sexy for no reason
95. …gotten it on to “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye
96. …kissed in the rain
97. …played in the mud
98. …played in the rain
99. …gone to a drive-in theater
100. …done something you should regret, but don’t regret it…
101. …visited the Great Wall of China
102. …fallen in love with a job that has nothing to do with the degree/career you pursued
103. …discovered that someone who’s not supposed to have known about your blog/website has discovered it
104. …dropped Windows in favor of something better (no, but I would like to)
105. …started a business
106. …fallen in love and not had your heart broken
107. …toured ancient sites around Europe
108. …taken karate
109. …swordfought for the honor of a woman
110. …played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
111. …gotten married
112. …been in a movie
113. …LARPed
114. …loved someone you shouldn’t have
115. …kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy
116. …gotten divorced
117. …had sex at the office/workplace
118. …surprised yourself with a talent you didn’t know you had
119. …been to Macchu Picchu
120. …gone without food for 5 days
121. …never left the continental United States
122. …made cookies from scratch
123. …won first prize in a costume contest
124. …ridden a gondola in Venice
125. …gotten a tattoo
126. …gotten another tattoo the next day because you didn’t feel balanced
127. …found that the texture of some materials can turn you on
128. …rafted the Snake River
129. …blazed it up at Burning Man
130. …gotten flowers for no reason
131. …masturbated in a public place
132. …gotten so drunk you don’t remember anything
133. …been addicted to some form of illegal drug.
134. …traveled the world (well, some of it)
135. …performed onstage with a famous symphony orchestra/band
136. …been to Las Vegas
137. …met Madonna
138. …recorded music
139. …eaten shark
140. …had a one night stand
141. …gone to Thailand
142. …had the courage to speak your mind
143. …seen Robert Smith and Siouxsie live
144. …bought a house
145. …earned a degree
146. …broken your neck
147. …been in a combat zone
148. …buried your father/mother/child/spouse/friend
149. …earned a *living* through your creativity
150. …visited the remaining continents on your list
151. …had your pubic hair waxed off
152. …been on a cruise ship
153. …spoken more than one language fluently
154. …worn see-through clothes in public
155. …bounced a check
156. …performed in Rocky Horror
157. …moved over 1000 miles by yourself
158. …been to art school
159. …read – and understood – your credit report
160. …raised children
161. …recently bought and played with a favorite childhood toy
162. …followed your favorite band/singer on tour
163. …created and named your own constellation of stars
164. …bucked stigma or trends to follow your heart
165. …taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country (if the Netherlands counts as exotic)
166. …found out something significant that your ancestors did
167. …called or written your Congressman (or other public representative)
168. …picked up and moved to another city to just start over
169. …more than once?
170. …run the Golden Gate Bridge
171. …sung loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
172. …had an abortion (or your female partner did)
173. …had plastic surgery
174. …survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
175. …written articles for a large publication
176. …lost over 100 pounds
177. …held someone while they were having a flashback
178. …flown an airplane
179. …petted a stingray
180. …broken someone’s heart
181. …helped an animal give birth
182. …been fired or laid off from a job you loved
183. …won money on a T.V. game show
184. …broken a bone
185. …killed a human being
186. …had a threesome
187. …ridden a motorcycle
188. …driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100mph
189. …had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
190. …fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
191. …eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
192. …ridden a horse
193. …had major surgery
194. …had sex on a moving train/airplane
195. …had a snake as a pet
196. …hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
197. …learned to play a musical instrument
198. …eaten racoon meat
199. …lied about your age
200. …traveled with a carnival
201. …been a member/spouse of a member of the US armed forces
202. …been to Africa
203. …fired a gun at a living thing
204. …eaten food from your own garden (this doesn’t exactly duplicate an earlier line though it’s close)
205. …chopped firewood
206. …changed a tire for a stranger
207. …given a birthday kiss to a stranger, just because they asked
208. …gotten more than one speeding ticket on the same day
209. …ingested a drug you found in a public restroom without being certain what it was
210. …experienced weightlessness
211. …made your own wine/beer/other alcoholic beverage
212. …had to put a pet “to sleep”
213. …signed a contract while in a swimming pool
214. …performed in some capacity (anchor, DJ, presenter) on commercial radio
215. …had your music played on a nationally-syndicated radio program
216. …had your own TV show
217. …repaired some piece of hi-tech equipment yourself
218. …performed at Carnegie Hall
219. …eaten a sea urchin
220. …pretended to speak only an invented language in a public situation
221. …stood on the top of the shell of the Hollywood Bowl
222. …driven a car
223. …been to Canada
224. …never been to the United States
225. …rescued a baby wild bird and tried to raise it
226. …operated a circular saw for the purpose of building something out of wood
227. …ate something before you knew what it was
228. …walked around naked in front of strangers
229. …spent more than 24 hours straight in front of a computer
230. …run your own online community
231. …read less than one book a month
232. …assisted in the birth of a child (assuming my own counts)
233. …told your boss off and not gotten fired
234. …stopped a crime in progress
235. …told someone that they are beautiful
236. …traveled alone in a foreign country where you did not speak the language
237. …taught an adult how to skate
238. …skateboarded after the age of 30
239. …taught an adult how to knit
240. …attended an outdoor rock music concert
241. …read more than one book in a day
242. …forgiven a profound but unintentional hurt
243. …attended school in a foreign country
244. …conversed with strangers in a foreign country, in a language foreign to you. Extra points if it was a “second language” for both parties! (See my entry about buying CDs in Kosovo…)
245 …organized a political protest
246 …taken in a stray pet and kept it
247 …drawn a picture of someone and given it to them
248 …been in a physical fight after the age of 18
249 …moved to another city just to be with/follow someone
250 …been a guest on a TV news program
251 …been a guest on a radio news program
252 …met a president or a prime minister of an independent country
253 …been to Australia
254 …read Proust’s A la Recherche du Temps Perdu (translations permitted)

I’ve done only 93 of these, but there are a fair number of the other 161 that I have little interest in trying…

I don’t know if anyone reading this is interested in random international relations stuff:

As the world’s largest private intelligence company, [firm] is on the lookout for the best, brightest and most iconoclastic to work as analysts on issues ranging from geopolitics to security to global environmental issues and beyond. The hours are long, the responsibilities great and the work stressful. If you are looking for a 40-hour week, this job is definitely not for you. If you want to understand the way the world works, this may well be.

We are looking, first and foremost, for what we call “quality of mind”. It’s hard to define but we know it when we see it. Credentials — from academic to intelligence experience — are “nice to haves” but cannot replace a mind that is obsessed with its subject, the ability to see connections that are far from obvious or the willingness to hold your ground against criticism. Area specialization is good, unless you can’t see the forest for the trees.

Applicants must have a general knowledge of history, geography, politics, economics, security and current events and be competent in at least one additional language. Writing skills are a must.

These are generally entry-level positions but we will consider applicants with substantial and demonstrable achievements at higher levels. All applicants, regardless of experience, will be trained in [firm]’s methods of analysis. If you think that you don’t need to be trained because of years of experience in intelligence or are unwilling to undergo rigorous training, this job is not for you.

Applicants must submit a cover letter and current resume, as well as a 500- to 800-word analysis on a current issue. References and background checks will be required later in the process.

Applicants making it to the second stage will be required to take a general knowledge test, demonstrating basic knowledge of history and current events.

The third stage includes interviews with [firm] analysts.

This is a general call for applicants in all subject areas; positions will be based in our Austin, Texas, and Washington, D.C., offices. Applications not considered suitable at the current time will be held for consideration as other positions open up. Cover letters, resumes, references and writing samples should be sent to ****@****.com.

Anyone interested should give me a shout and I’ll forward the original advert with blanks filled in.

From (who got the same answer):

You speak eloquently and have seemingly read every
book ever published. You are a fountain of
endless (sometimes useless) knowledge, and
never fail to impress at a party.
What people love: You can answer almost any
question people ask, and have thus been
nicknamed Jeeves.
What people hate: You constantly correct their
grammar and insult their paperbacks.

What Kind of Elitist Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

11) The Politics of Serbia in the 1990s, by Robert Thomas.

I found this 400-page hardback remaindered at €10 in the local English language bookshop yesterday, bought it, and managed to devour it while keeping an eye on B during the birthday party this afternoon. It’s basically a narrative of what happened politically in Serbia from just before the first multi-party elections in 1990 to the rigged referendum against foreign interference in Kosovo in April 1998, and thus misses out the juicy bits of the NATO threats of late 1998, the actual bombardment of 1999, and Milošević’s overthrow in 2000. I saw very few errors – Richard Holbrooke’s wife turns up as “Katie Morton” in the index, but is correctly spelt “Kati Marton” in the text, and there were one or two minor misspellings elsewhere – suggesting it’s been carefully proofread at least.

But there were some odd little things. For instance, Zoran Djindjić is quoted in a September 1997 interview as promising that he would attend an election rally for Biljana Plavšić’s party in Bosnia, and the sentence is left hanging, as if it were too difficult to discover whether he actually did attend the rally or not. As it happens, I attended that rally myself in the company of several Western journalists, and saw Djindjić speaking, so it seems a peculiar omission. As usual the role of the Milošević offshoot party, the SPRS, in Bosnian politics is completely truncated. Some day there will be a definitive historical account of Republika Srpska politics, but I suspect I may have to write it myself.

This book doesn’t really seem to have an organising idea or argument. In introduction and conclusion, the author states that even after Milosevic, Serbia will have a bumpy road to stability, but that was hardly a difficult prediction. The emphasis is almost entirely on the musical chairs of Serbian party politics (with reflections on the Bosnian Republika Srpska and Montenegro, and a very short section on Kosovo); the economy gets a look-in only for one chapter.

He is moderately interesting on the personalities. But at the same time the juicy bits from the backgrounds of key personalities are missing; it’s as if history began in 1990. There’s a wonderful story going the rounds at the moment about one of the key players in Thomas’ book, still prominent in Serbia today, who as a young Tanjug correspondent incorrectly reported a war breaking out between the country he was stationed in and one of its neighbours, and the story snowballed to the point where Tito was woken up to give an official statement calling for peace before it was discovered that it wasn’t true. That’s the sort of colour that this book lacks.

It’s nice to discover the positive role played in the past by one or two people who I consider friends, most particularly Vojin Dimitrijević, who radiates affable integrity. But the role of the NGO community is completely missing – even Warren Zimmerman writes about Sonja Licht, for instance. In my own dealings with all the south-eastern European countries, I’ve gained the strong impression that Serbia’s intellectual capital is second only to Bulgaria’s (far ahead of its other neighbours, including Romania). That’s not reflected in this book at all.

Also almost completely absent is the international dimension. Bob Gelbard will no doubt be annoyed to find he is mentioned only in the context of incautious remarks about the KLA in early 1998 (I have no doubt he would argue he was misquoted or taken out of context). Dick Holbrooke will be even more annoyed to find himself mentioned only twice, and on one of those occasions just as Kati Marton’s husband. There’s no fundamental harm in tweaking such people’s egos, but the two of them played a very important role in transmitting US and NATO policy to Belgrade, and leaving it out is a huge gap.

Because I live and breathe the topic and know a lot of the people involved, I found this a very quick read. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone below a graduate student level of interest in Serbia though. Start with Tim Judah, and if your appetite is whetted move on to Dick Holbrooke, Warren Zimmerman and my own employers’ publications. I believe Thomas has another book out about subsequent developments in Serbia but will buy it for work, if I buy it at all.

I have on my friends list, and usually it’s not fantastically exciting (“went to work, talked to Very Important People, came home late, argued with my wife” kind of thing) but yesterday’s entry is particularly revealing. His uncle has just died and Pepys has been making disappointed noises about not being likely to inherit as much as he had hoped. Yesterday (Wednesday 24 July 1661) he decided to simply lie about it to his colleagues (who are presumably wondering if he can justify the time he’s taken off work lately to deal with his uncle’s affairs): “I give it out among them that the estate left me is £200 a year in land, besides moneys, because I would put an esteem upon myself.”

His day had started badly anyway when he discovered that a valuable silver tankard had been stolen from his house; he blamed the servants for leaving the door open. But he finishes the diary entry with a small gloat at someone else’s misfortune: “This afternoon I hear that my man Will hath lost his clock with my tankard, at which I am very glad.”

Of course, Pepys had no idea that people would be reading this and laughing about it in the 21st century. It was not until over 150 years after he wrote those words that anyone else read them. Will any blogs of today survive as long, I wonder?

Gettin’ it reg’lar helps students pass exams

Ten silly moments from SF cinema

I hope everyone else was as outraged as I was by John Humphries choosing to question one of the contestants about some bloke she slept with twenty years ago. None of the others were asked about their personal lives. It was very gratifying that the person in question won, and that Richard Whiteley off Countdown came last!

I see Peter Mandelson has got the UK Commission spot, and Charlie McCreevy the Irish one. I imagine they’ll both get economic-related portfolios, so not of much concern to me.

Terrific storm last night, vast downpour of rain, crashes of lightning from right overhead, unable to hear Radio 4 clearly because of the incessant EMP-type interruptions. And this morning the sun is shining, the centimetre or so of rain that fell has dried or evaporated, and you would hardly know (apart from the puddle near the window in our bedroom) that anything had happened.

I signed up ages back for the service that alerts you when interesting Euro-jobs are coming up. Unfortunately the service in question seems to have looked only at my primary degree (in astrophysics), and ignored the fact that I gave up science in 1989 and have made my living out of politics since 1996. So I get a job notification today where the requirements are as follows:

Responsibilities

The successful applicant will be responsible, among others, for:

· Provision of 2nd level technical support for all users;
· The installation and upgrading of ICT systems;
· Assisting with the development of [agency]’s functional applications and information systems;
· Maintaining computer network systems and databases including security and back up operations;
· Developing web projects;
· Assistance in the definition of procedures for technical support of IT services and applications;
· Programming of applications for [agency]’s internal use such as financial and operational management systems;
· Maintenance of internal applications;
· Organisation of the IT services (scanning, printing etc);
· Performing any other tasks requested by the ICT Systems Administrator or the Head of Information Management.

Formal requirements

Candidates will be considered for the selection phase on the basis of the following criteria to be fulfilled by the deadline for applications:

· National of an EU Member State;
· Thorough knowledge of one of the official languages of the European Union and a satisfactory knowledge of another of the EU official languages;
· A level of post – secondary education attested by a diploma or;
· A level of secondary education attested by a diploma which gives access to post secondary education and appropriate professional experience of at least 3 years;
· In addition to the above, 3 years of professional experience.

Competences and skills

Candidates selected on the basis of the above formal requirements will then be evaluated according to the following criteria:

· Experience and knowledge in the areas mentioned above under “responsibilities”;
· Knowledge of Microsoft office tools from a user’s point of view;
· Experience in planning, installing and maintaining of Windows 2003 Server and Windows XP Professional;
· Experience in MS SQL Server and Oracle databases;
· Experience in Web design.

Assets

The following characteristics will be considered as additional assets:
· Good knowledge of English and Dutch; knowledge of additional languages is desirable.
· Experience in a multicultural environment;
· Excellent communication skills.

I mean, why bother wasting my time with this? I satisfy the formal requirements, apart from the rather crucial last one, and I certainly qualify for the three nice asset bullet points at the end, but I don’t have any (well, hardly any) of the actual specific competences and skills required for the job.

Still, maybe someone reading this does have those competences and skills, and actually wants a B3 grade job (ie around €50k) based in the Hague. If so please let me know and I’ll pass it on to you.