Troll Feeding

It's an old motto of internet intercourse: 'Do not feed the troll'. By old, I mean net old, in other words cast your minds back to the era of dial-up and 'waiting for page to load' warnings; by troll I refer to that foul breed of human that lurks on message boards, discussion groups and comment areas. The idea behind not feeding or not responding was  that trolls are attention seeking, malcontents who post deliberately provocative and contrarian comments to incite arguments and enjoy disputing ad infinitum.

Don't engage, then the troll will go away and find some other harmless public discussion area to spoil. If we all followed that sensible advice, then many trolls might have reverted to other asocial activities, like exposing themselves in the park  or frotting which hopefully leads to prison and/or psychiatric care.

Unfortunately newspapers thought that a way to stay relevant and current was to open up their web pages to comments from their readers. Much like the cool teacher at school, this is an exercise is self-delusion. Those pupils did not respect you, they flicked the V when your back was turned and spat in your tea when you weren't looking. We never dared do that with the disciplinarians.

So these aging newspapers, with their dwindling circulations think that comment pages keep them fresh and relevant. Suddenly the troll whose mind garbage was dumped only a humble special interest message board which a readership of hundreds, could spew their drivel on a website viewed by millions. Those trendy teachers fed the trolls, they poured water on The Gremlins and look what monsters emerged.

Go now to the web version of the following newspapers: The Telegraph, The Guardian, The Daily Mail or the current affairs magazines The Spectator, The News Statesman. You will find the comment sections underneath certain articles are infested with trolls; so badly that the columnists often complain about what is written underneath their copy, desperately trying to disassociate themselves from the misanthropic poison that lurks below.

Trollus Fuckwitticus

The political persuasion of the majority of the trolls is easy to deduce, as they cluster, like rotten fruit under particular headlines: Israel, banking, immigration, EU, crime etc. Spend even a short while in the lower reaches of these online mental wards and you'll find misogyny, homophobia, violent fantasies of retribution against criminals, all wrapped in a general dislike of anyone who isn't white, male and English speaking. To top it all, you'll find many trolls aren't even UK based as there are many posts from Steves of Gibraltar ranting on about why they left Britain, typically so they could avoid all those foreigners...

In the freaks gallery of trolls, the US breed stands out as being particularly vile, using Confederate flags or blood splatters as their avatars, with names such as Truthseeker, Patriot and other puerile bilge. Their speciality is Good Ole Boy invectives against 'libruls' and 'libtards'. See, bloody foreign racists coming over onto our comment is free sections, taking webspace from traditional English racists.

News sites should insist on is real names and genuine photos, like the troll hunter from the excellent Norwegian film, shine a light on these creatures and they will turn to stone. Free speech does not mean you have to give the oxygen of publicity to extremists and freaks who otherwise would be reduced to handing out badly photocopied leaflets in the streets.

Send them back to their troll caves.

Kony 2012

By the time I type this, 80 million people and counting will have watched the Kony 2012 video; its director Jason Russell has been arrested for public drunkeness and public masturbation on Pacific Beach San Diego. Sadly the only video of the incident is a fifteen second clip of a naked man (presumably Russell) assaulting a shrub. According to a spokesperson, Jason Russell was emotionally exhausted and dehydrated, hence the breakdown. So do make sure to drink plenty of water when stressed or you'll end up attacking ornamental plants and wanking on the seafront.

I started watching Kony 2012, then stopped after a few minutes because like all net junkies I have the attention span of an ADHD goldfish on crack. There was no way I could spend 30 precious minutes watching a worthy film when there were so many videos of cute baby sloths and Russian brides losing their dresses to view in the same time frame. Those last sentences contained several exaggerations and falsehoods, much like the film itself.

After only five minutes of Russell's film, I clicked off. It was pure propaganda, apparently to highlight a human tragedy, but propaganda nonetheless. Opposing Joseph Kony's child soldiers in Uganda is surely a given, like the UK group, Mothers Against Murder, you should assume we are on your side.  It's hard to think many mums would support a pro-homicide policy, unless it included people who play music through their mobiles on public transport.

Maybe you can change the world for the better by sharing a video, maybe solving the world's problems is possible through social media, maybe if we all send enough tweets then all the bad things in the world will end. Remember all those email petitions to save the rainforest, a much needed campaign with the one tiny flaw that no matter how many people signed up, whoever you send it to can always just hit delete.

Invisible Children, the organisation behind Kony 2012, could have good intentions, but as they say, that's how the road to hell is paved. I've become more skeptical about the ability of best intentions to produce positive results; Iraq and Afghanistan spring to mind as ghastly examples of the mismatch of aims and outcomes. Turns out the West is good at blowing things up, drone strikes and shooting people; nation building is a lot harder, especially when the peoples and nations in question hate you, mostly because you keep blowing up their homes and killing their relatives.

If this episode proves anything, it's that our first responsibility is to get the facts straight, before sending on a video link. And in case this all seems very uncharitable, watch this piece by Charlie Brooker to put you straight.

A bit of background on that video

Climate Change

As we bask in the sun's rays in mid-February, many of us are wondering if it's warm enough to sunbathe and exactly how much of our flabby, winter physique we wish to bare to the elements. By this time of year, most Caucasians who haven't spent two weeks Costa Rica have developed a complexion the colour of a corpse dragged from The Thames and a body shape with all the tone and firmness of raw sausage meat in a bin bag. But perhaps our thoughts should turn away from tanning to climate change, because the weather in the past decade as been increasingly odd. Moreover, the strangest development of all is that as the evidence for man-made climate change becomes ever more convincing, the number of people who believe that humans are changing the climate has fallen.

Witness then the publication of James Delingpole's new book Watermelons: The Green Movement's True Colours. I imagine he's terribly pleased with the title because the implication is that 'greens' are actually 'reds' on the inside. For those of you not in throes of Cold War style paranoia, the likes of Delingpole believe that Western civilisation is under assault from militant eco-socialists who hate freedom, the West and posh white men like James in particular. To serve their evil ends these 'eco-Nazis' have concocted global warming as a scam to enslave us in lesbian-run cycle-powered collective farms, where we must all pedal for our daily ration of tofu.

Now I'll share with you a little tip for spotting bullshit arguments, which is how quickly the person uses the words 'Hitler', 'Nazi' or 'slippery slope', because that's shorthand for saying I can't present any convincing logic arguments so I'll mention the greatest evil in human history next to the thing I don't approve of,  you are gullible and stupid, the two things are close together, you'll assume they are one and the same. So put 'eco' next to 'Nazi', job done.  I am actually making Delingpole's thinking sound a lot more coherent than it is; he writes frequently on the subject of climate change whilst admitting he has no scientific training nor does he have time to read peer-reviewed journals. It's the written equivalent of being cornered by a belligerent, drunken toff in the pub.

Instruments of oppression

Hardly a week goes by without a new piece of data pointing towards human-produced carbon dioxide warming the earth, acidifying the oceans and producing freak weather; yet less people believe in climate change than a decade ago. Now despite the best efforts of X-Factor and Britain's Got Talent,  I don't think the population has got noticeably stupider in the last ten years; cannabis consumption has stayed broadly stable so we can discount drug-induced psychosis and Britons only drink themselves senseless on the weekends. Yet an increased segment of the population think that climate change is a 'con', roughly forty percent at the last count.

This belief is so irrational and so delusional that to engage with its claims gives it a legitimacy they do not deserve. Explaining why witches do not exist gives the witch hunters false respectability. So in the case of Delingpole, engaging with him on the science is pointless as he will revert back to his magical thinking; you would be better discussing your favourite dunking ponds with the witch hunters. And  if you are in any doubt at all, ask yourself this question: is it even remotely plausible that the scientific community, together with the BBC  and our  political establishment would engage in a systematic intellectual fraud, the like of which has never been seen in human history and if discovered would lead to the destruction of their careers, reputations and the very institutions they serve, just so they can build wind turbines?

Bonkers isn't it? But why would a large number of people prefer to believe something patently absurd than engage with reality. I think the answer is that many would rather be consistent than correct; so  deniers cannot concede that pressure groups from the political left might be  right therefore climate change must be a fabrication. It is comforting, like all magical thinking, it is reassuring, but like magic, much as we would like it to be real is an illusion. Witches don't exist, they aren't fairies at the bottom of the garden and no matter how much you like Harry Potter there is no platform nine and three quarters (the novelty sign doesn't count.) So sadly, all of us, including the refuseniks, will have to deal with the reality of climate change. Still at least it's mild for this time of year!

Attractive woman + coal mine = coal is sexy, let's keep burning it 

Sunday Sun

Rupert Murdoch is planning to launch a Sunday Sun 'very soon.' I don't know about you but I'm looking forward to that about as much as an anthrax salad with Ebola dressing and cholera croutons. It's hard to know what is more depressing, the fact that Murdoch is amoral or that the British political class has kowtowed to him for thirty years, like a mafia captains paying homage to the capo di capos. One after another they knelt and kissed the ring, by which I don't mean the one on his finger (do you see what I did there).

Naively I thought that the bribing of police, phone hacking and lying to the parliamentary select committee by News International staff might possibly, just possibly, mean that Rupert Murdoch would not be allowed to open another newspaper.  Apparently he wants to build on the Sun's proud heritage, I'm guessing he doesn't mean Page 3, the kiss and tells or gypsy-baiting, perhaps the football coverage, who knows? Charlie Brooker has done the definitive summary of the Sun's 'heritage', check out this excellent remix of his 10 O'Clock Show live rant:

Charlie Brooker's genius rant

But rather than whinge about it, let's not allow the old vampire to feed on the body politic once more. Even though Labour and Conservative politicians alike feared the wrath of The Sun or the NOTW, there is no evidence that endorsement by the Murdoch press won elections, even with that very special tribe of swing voters. Yes, I know Labour needs an excuse for its dismal performance in the 80s, but try reading its 1983 manifesto, it really is the 'longest suicide note in history.' It was not the Sun wot won it.

Surely the warlock's spell is broken now and even Cameron can see he doesn't need his support. So that begs the question, how earth is he being allowed to open another newspaper?

Time to get some self-respect. 

Kick Start

As the country slides back into a recession, now is probably the time to ask ourselves how to return the economy to growth because no one on either side of the political spectrum has the slightest idea. On the right, the only prescription is cutting public spending which will magically kick start the private sector. I've been on the receiving end of several lectures on free enterprise and the evils of big government by wealthy white men, privately-educated who bought their homes with  a sizeable deposit from their parents most of whom work as consultants or city financiers. Being mercifully free of self-doubt or their own lack of real world knowledge, they will happily pontificate on business and enterprise whilst having no direct experience of either. They honestly believe that moving money round in a bubble market was the same as being an entrepreneur, a notion that would be amusing if it wasn't so damaging.

Don't look for any more insight or wisdom on the left of politics, as they are drawn from same social strata, that is predominantly privately-educated white people from the same geographical area of North and West London, the only difference being they work exclusively for the state or as lawyers. Their remedy for Britain's ills is more deficit spending, more regulation of business and no job cuts in the public sector; then equally magically the economy grows again. This ideology is no less self-serving that the right winger who wants to cut public spending to retain more of his income in tax. Turkeys, to date, have not voted for Christmas. (Mind you, I'm not sure they have ever been asked or whether we would have any reliable means of interpreting their wishes if they did vote, but the point still stands, more or less). The thinking, if you can call it that on the left, is in essence jobs for the boys and girls, either directly through state spending on public sector job creation or regulation which acts as job-creation for lawyers.

If you look at the backgrounds and life experience of the current political class, left or right, what is notable is the complete absence of business experience at the sharp end. True, some have worked in the private sector, typically in large corporations and a long way removed from the messy business of managing cashflow or chasing payment; some have worked as a consultants, which whatever they might try to tell you has as much to do with real business as paintballing does to a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Not forgetting the former lawyers, the union officials and the public sector workers, all of which have their uses (except lawyers) but are not going to be engine of future growth, unless we decide that every single person in the country is going to work for the government or do the legal paperwork. Not even the North Koreans are mad enough to do that; and they are madder than a box of schizophrenic frogs on LCD.

Up until a few years ago, I had a similarly blinkered world view, never having a run a small business. Having run someone's else's firm, sold it and then started my own which is thriving, my opinions have shifted about the problems of the UK economy, particularly for the smaller enterprises. At this micro-level, the little stuff matters a great deal to your business prospects. Take for example the client who has moved their accounts department to India, which means they pay four months after invoicing. Consequently you don't get paid, your creditors don't get paid and you can't make that investment you were planning. But hey, remember those savings to shareholders. Or discover the great deals available for invoicing financing, where the bank will take 10% off 30K of invoices, even if your order book is 150K for the next three months. Let's not forget the local council, who mission as far as I can tell is not dissimilar to a LA porn actress going for the gang bang record, which is to screw as many people in the shortest time possible. Finally, if you are foolish enough to consider taking on employee, look forward to doing their tax for them, paying for sick leave, holidays and the whole carousel of benefits the government has gifted to the staff member, regardless of cost. After careful consideration, my conclusion is that only upside to the business is they are contractually obliged to turn up for work, unless of course they feel unwell. And you can only pray they don't have a child or there goes half your yearly profits in maternity leave.

Whilst George Osborne might be scratching his head wondering why the world doesn't work like Hayek claimed it did, no one running a small business is remotely surprised. Small enterprises create jobs faster and with less turnover than large concerns, yet there has been precious little debate from any party on how to help them in the current crisis. Lib Dems might talk about raising tax thresholds to £10,000 but that won't create a single job if the obstacles to growth remain unchallenged. Trying making the burden of taking on employees less onerous to employers,  make councils business friendly and force banks to lend to small enterprises on reasonable terms, then you might see some activity. Otherwise, expect nothing and be disappointed.

Devo Max

It's only three weeks into 2012 and already we'e got a new phrase coined - 'Devo Max', which you think would be a cold remedy, drain cleaner or the stage name of a male stripper, but in fact relates to the referendum on Scottish independence. Finally the Tory party has realised that they are about as welcome in Scotland as rabies, so Osborne and Cameron see political gain in fast tracking a referendum, ideally on a full split from the UK. 'Devo Max' is short for maximum devolution, why they had to swap it round is beyond me, unless they were worried about confusion with Max Payne, a successful computer game franchise. In Max Devo,  instead of gunning down bad guys with hot lead, the lead character bores them to death with debates on local income tax and government grants.

You see that is the problem with Scottish politics; it is unbelievably  boring and dull, even to the people elected to the Scottish parliament. Check this assertion by reviewing coverage of their sessions. Recovering heroin addicts, correction heroin addicts who have just jacked up, would have more get up and go that the average parliamentarian and might give better speeches. Tedium has served Alex Salmond, leader of the SNP, well  as under the cover of boredom he has been able to advance a set of claims and proposals that ought to provoke outrage amongst every non-Scottish citizen, except that none of us care.

We should listen and pay attention, because for too long Caledonian politics has existed as a parasitical enterprise, with all the self-control of banker's wife with her husband's black Amex who has just discovered his mistress. Thanks to Barnett formula, each year Scottish citizens receive at least £1,000 per capita more than English citizens, an annual transfer of £4.5 billion. Scottish nationalists might cite North Sea oil revenues; there is the small matter of the bank bail outs for RBS and HBOS, with liabilities the size of the UK GDP or perhaps the £100 millions a year spent on Scotrail. North of Hadrian's wall, it would be cheaper to provide chauffer-driven limos to every passenger that it would be to continue with this subsidy devouring money pit. If you live in the South East, think of that as you cram yourself onto the tube or the commuter lines so crowded it would be illegal to transport animals in such fashion; think of the net outflow of billions in tax revenue and spending from London to....Scotland.

Whatever way you slice the respective revenues, the case for further devolution rests not fiscal fairness alone but on remedying the democratic deficit. Scottish MPs sit in the UK parliament and vote on laws that affect England; yet English MPs may not vote on Scottish legislation passed in the Scottish parliament even though the revenues come from the UK Treasury. Known as the West Lothian question, most people might think the answer is where is West Lothian and aren't they a football team (near Edinburgh and no in case you needed to know).

The answer to the West Lothian question surely has to be 'devo max' or independence, the Scots should raise and spend their own taxes as far as is practical. Spending money without the responsibility of raising it is a recipe for immaturity and irresponsibility; ask any parent foolish enough to give their teenage offspring a credit card what happens next.

Time for Scottish politics to grow up. If the Scots want to waive tuition fees, then they must pay for it and their politicians must find a new guiding philosophy rather than endlessly asking the English if they can spare any change.

Identity Theft

Welcome to 2012. If this was a movie franchise, 2011 was the first Matrix film with a cool 'everything you know is wrong' vibe.  Financial armageddon looms, the poor get poorer, the rich get richer, even the weather went weird but then a ray of hope shines out. The people rise up and overthrow the fascist tyrant that had held his people in slavery for decades...yes Rupert Murdoch's hold on British political life was broken. And ding dong the witch stands a chance of criminal prosecution, that's Rebecca Brooks incidentally, in case you were following this analogy which to be honest I'm not any more.

Suffice to say that 2012, the sequel to the original Matrix 2011, will be more of the same only rubbish and incomprehensible. If anyone meets the Wachowski Brothers, please tell them from me, I want the two hours and £10 I spent watching the Matrix sequel back, same goes for George Lucas and that shameless cash-in and rape of my childhood dreams film known as the 'first' Star Wars film.

So what better way to usher in this sorry excuse of a year than to tell you about a heartwarming personal story of crime and credit, for I have been a victim of identity theft. At first, I had a little surge of pride to think that of all the identities out there, mine was worth stealing; then you realise you're just one of many marks, a drop in the ocean of impersonation. Imagine if you had a stalker and he started following other people; you would feel cheap and used.

Identity theft gave me a brief insight into crime prevention techniques in this country, as on the same day I discovered a new mobile phone contract taken out in my name along with a store card, my actual, legal credit card was stopped for purchasing £150 of goods online. Never fear I thought, if the fraud detection software is so finely tuned it activates on a handful of legit purchases, there is no way that any business would be so incompetent or negligent as to dole out a £500 phone contract with no security checks or a store card with a £1000 credit limit without proof of identity.

Relax, your identity is secure, because whoever impersonated me had to pass a tough test, they had a letter with my address on the top and they knew my birthday. Yet a piece of this puzzle is missing and you don't have to be a super-detective hybrid of Columbo crossed with Sherlock and a dash of Miss Marple to solve this case. (Sorry I've just got a weird image in my head of Benedict Cumberbatch wearing a floral hat, rain mac and smoking a cigar). Where were we? Yes, solving the mystery is pretty straightforward and does not involve Professor Moriarty or gathering all in the suspects on one room for a bizarrely convoluted exposition at the end of the show. It was the postman stealing my mail, somewhere between the sorting office and my flat, using his thieving, pickpockety hands. Or it could have been a female postal delivery agent, whatever the gender, somebody's been dipping into my post, which trust me is dull beyond belief.

When you call Royal Mail  to say that the police and the credit card fraud prevention team believe your post has been intercepted, they don't have to tell you what happens as a result of their investigation or indeed tell you anything. Although the woman on the phone was perfectly polite, the postal service's customer care ethos can be summarised as: go away and leave us alone, we're busy listening to Five Live and drop kicking your special delivery package across the sorting room floor. Then, when the supervisor's not looking, pinching your post.

But I did get a phone call from the Metropolitan Police, explaining that even though someone had impersonated me to take out a store card and a mobile phone, I was not a victim of crime, it was the mobile company and the bank who were the victims. It is, incredibly, not an offence to steal someone's identity to take out contracts in their name. Quite how the Labour party failed to pass a law against this, given that egg tampering justified its own statute, is one of those strange unanswered questions of life like Ed Milliband.

In spite of all these shenanigans, part of me remains flattered that the thieving postie and his accomplices chose me, which I realise is tragic, but with 2012 already limbering up to be as much fun as root canal work without anaesthesia,  I'll take what I can get.


PS - I feel the word 'shenanigans', like 'tomfoolery' ought to be employed more often in every day speech.  Don't over do it though, as if you're not careful some branding consultant will set up a chain of themed Irish fun pubs, called Shenanigans, with a leprechaun logo and bits of old farm machinery painted neon-green decorating every outlet.