I'm currently watching This Week, and the speculation, unsurprisingly, is rife that this is the end for Rupert Murdoch, for News International. In the eyes of its media rivals, the 'spell' that the Murdoch empire has held over British politics is completely broken. Murdoch is Voldemort, he's Lex Luthor. It wouldn't surprise me if the Sun had used phone hacking to uncover that Clark Kent is Superman.
Yet, once more, the reaction to the hacking scandal has been strangely paradoxical, as News International has been churned up and spat out by the same media machine that it has spent so long propagating. Cameron's knee-jerk reaction has been as much about reacting to the 24 hour news cycle as it has been about bowing to any public sentiment. The News International story can run for weeks, its rivals will see to that.
News International's stature on the British political landscape may be significantly diminished. Yet, somehow, one still gets the feeling that our politicians and our celebrities are still being judged by the journalists who have mapped out the narrative of this crisis. For example, a Daily Mail editorial from earlier this week questioned the links between Robert Peston, BBC business editor, and some of his former colleagues and sometime sources at News International. Likewise, Melanie Philips had turned her sights onto Hugh Grant, for having the audacity to publicly criticise Murdoch's tabloid press and its blatant disregard for people's privacy.
It may be that the likes of Steve Coogan and Grant will never be left alone by the tabloid press. After all, their misdemeanours are seemingly part of public record: how dare they take the moral high ground with those who splash their faces across page 3?
Gossip can be found anywhere. Only this week I've been privy to two discussions, on radio and television, about Nick Clegg's apparenly craaazy desire to both be Deputy Prime Minister and take his children to school in the morning. I know, what a git.
Also in the news, Cheryl's gone back to Ashley. The Daily Mirror's saw her give him a lapdance, so it must be love again.
Friday, 15 July 2011
Wednesday, 19 January 2011
Does careless talk really cost lives?
The heading I have given this post refers to an old wartime slogan, and invokes a paranoia, or at the very least a wariness about what you choose to talk about in public. Now, however, the villain appears to be a gun toting maniac, not invisible German spies.
I am, of course, referring again to the shootings in Tucson, Arizona and the accusations that the gunman, Jared Loughner, was egged on by the increasingly inflammatory political debate which permeates both Arizona, but also wider American politics. I, for one, am sceptical of such ideas. Whilst I didn't like Sarah Palin's statement in the aftermath, believing it to be cloying and safe, the idea that she is somehow, however indirectly, responsible for Loughner's actions is questionable.
That is not to say that the political climate in the USA is not heated and that, in investigating the context of Loughner's killing spree, we have not stumbled on some of the more troubling aspects of US political discourse.
Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, the most high-profile victim in Loughner's rampage, criticised Sarah Palin for targeting key Democratic seats with "cross-hairs". A rhetoric of "take up arms", an anti-government sentiment that also happens to be pro-guns, a Second Amendment, giving American citizens the right to "bear arms" which sits at the heart of the Tea Party's love of the hallowed US Constitution; this is, broadly speaking, the culture that is now being blamed for Loughner's actions. But the blame is nebulous, it is difficult to place it on one person, there is no neat causality chain leading back from Loughner himself. And so, as it was with the 9/11 attacks, public consciousness has to try and create one.
What it speaks to instead is the new politics of America. Obama and Palin are, after all, the first generation of political icons to embrace social networking, the Internet, to whip up campaign support and spread their respective messages. This presents a problem when it comes to explaining Mr Loughner. The blame for his actions could lie with no one, but if you scoured the Internet, it could lie with about fifty different people. Online marketing, Internet movements, they are harder to put a name to than one might think. Loughner and the Tea Party may share ideals when it comes to their anti-government sentiment. Yet, overlap does not equal blame, as the online world continues to make politics ever more individualistic.
Talks of reforming what can and cannot be said in public are somewhat futile in the world of the 24 hour new cycle. Obama last week proved that the only way to combat hateful talk is by utilising its opposite. Indeed, his White House has been too silent for too long, and this is part of the problem.
More importantly, movements can become fads very quickly in this day and age; for an example closer to home, consider the brief mobilisation of the curious beast that is Mumsnet, against the producers and writing staff of Eastenders. Already the outrage has been swallowed by more important and up-to-date news. It will probably now remain where it belongs, tucked away in the first week of 2011, to be resurrected by a review of the year. This is where Loughner belongs: whatever his problems, it is his victims and not him, that deserve to be remembered.
I am, of course, referring again to the shootings in Tucson, Arizona and the accusations that the gunman, Jared Loughner, was egged on by the increasingly inflammatory political debate which permeates both Arizona, but also wider American politics. I, for one, am sceptical of such ideas. Whilst I didn't like Sarah Palin's statement in the aftermath, believing it to be cloying and safe, the idea that she is somehow, however indirectly, responsible for Loughner's actions is questionable.
That is not to say that the political climate in the USA is not heated and that, in investigating the context of Loughner's killing spree, we have not stumbled on some of the more troubling aspects of US political discourse.
Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, the most high-profile victim in Loughner's rampage, criticised Sarah Palin for targeting key Democratic seats with "cross-hairs". A rhetoric of "take up arms", an anti-government sentiment that also happens to be pro-guns, a Second Amendment, giving American citizens the right to "bear arms" which sits at the heart of the Tea Party's love of the hallowed US Constitution; this is, broadly speaking, the culture that is now being blamed for Loughner's actions. But the blame is nebulous, it is difficult to place it on one person, there is no neat causality chain leading back from Loughner himself. And so, as it was with the 9/11 attacks, public consciousness has to try and create one.
What it speaks to instead is the new politics of America. Obama and Palin are, after all, the first generation of political icons to embrace social networking, the Internet, to whip up campaign support and spread their respective messages. This presents a problem when it comes to explaining Mr Loughner. The blame for his actions could lie with no one, but if you scoured the Internet, it could lie with about fifty different people. Online marketing, Internet movements, they are harder to put a name to than one might think. Loughner and the Tea Party may share ideals when it comes to their anti-government sentiment. Yet, overlap does not equal blame, as the online world continues to make politics ever more individualistic.
Talks of reforming what can and cannot be said in public are somewhat futile in the world of the 24 hour new cycle. Obama last week proved that the only way to combat hateful talk is by utilising its opposite. Indeed, his White House has been too silent for too long, and this is part of the problem.
More importantly, movements can become fads very quickly in this day and age; for an example closer to home, consider the brief mobilisation of the curious beast that is Mumsnet, against the producers and writing staff of Eastenders. Already the outrage has been swallowed by more important and up-to-date news. It will probably now remain where it belongs, tucked away in the first week of 2011, to be resurrected by a review of the year. This is where Loughner belongs: whatever his problems, it is his victims and not him, that deserve to be remembered.
Friday, 14 January 2011
Obama may be divisive in actions, but he is still unifying in words
The political vitriol which both preceded and follows the shooting in Tucson, Arizona was temporarily halted today, when President Barack Obama made a speech at a memorial today. Paying tribute to those who had been killed, and in the case of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, seriously wounded, he acknowledged that "our hearts are broken". But, almost like the third act of an American film or in a manner befitting the fictional American President Josiah Bartlet of West Wing fame, Obama seemed to find again that hopeful, soaring rhetoric that governed his campaign for office, nearly three years ago.
Obama has had a year in which he has proved to be a divisive President. From healthcare reform, to the failure to bring the unemployment numbers, to the "shellacking" he, and the Democratic Party suffered at the hands of the Republicans last November, it has been a difficult, and sometimes gridlocked year.
Yet the reason, perhaps, that Obama has become such an antagonistic, polemic figure in the eyes of the Tea Party is simply because he has allowed himself to be; public political discourse has turned against him, because running the country prohibits him from being a part of it.
Today, he proved why he may confidently win re-nomination and re-election in 2012. For, with one speech, he once again spoke in the language of hope, unity, heroism and patriotism that defines him. Obama's greatest asset in the increasingly divisive conservative-liberal debate that has surrounded the Tucson shootings is his ability to rise above it, to condemn it and challenge it. Obama is a new President in his use of Facebook, Twitter, but his rhetoric is in the best tradition of some of the greatest United States Presidents, it is introspective without being indulgent, and inspiring without being controversial. It is a lesson that Tea Party activists, Republican contenders could do with learning. Obama's oratory creates the myth of one, strong, familial America and a cynic could brush this aside; but at least it is a united America, not one which hates its government, or its President. It's an America which can be better, which can shape its destiny. Just words maybe, but it's the poetry which Obama's government has lacked in recent months and needs to reclaim.
Obama has had a year in which he has proved to be a divisive President. From healthcare reform, to the failure to bring the unemployment numbers, to the "shellacking" he, and the Democratic Party suffered at the hands of the Republicans last November, it has been a difficult, and sometimes gridlocked year.
Yet the reason, perhaps, that Obama has become such an antagonistic, polemic figure in the eyes of the Tea Party is simply because he has allowed himself to be; public political discourse has turned against him, because running the country prohibits him from being a part of it.
Today, he proved why he may confidently win re-nomination and re-election in 2012. For, with one speech, he once again spoke in the language of hope, unity, heroism and patriotism that defines him. Obama's greatest asset in the increasingly divisive conservative-liberal debate that has surrounded the Tucson shootings is his ability to rise above it, to condemn it and challenge it. Obama is a new President in his use of Facebook, Twitter, but his rhetoric is in the best tradition of some of the greatest United States Presidents, it is introspective without being indulgent, and inspiring without being controversial. It is a lesson that Tea Party activists, Republican contenders could do with learning. Obama's oratory creates the myth of one, strong, familial America and a cynic could brush this aside; but at least it is a united America, not one which hates its government, or its President. It's an America which can be better, which can shape its destiny. Just words maybe, but it's the poetry which Obama's government has lacked in recent months and needs to reclaim.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Vince Cable and the contradiction at the heart of the Coalition
Vince Cable is the latest politician to fall foul of being recorded without his knowledge. Already, there has been a rush to perform damage control; Mr Cable has had to apologise and his embarrassment has been well-documented by the 24 hour news cycle. David Cameron and Nick Clegg have both been forced to repudiate his remarks, with Cameron saying he has "every reason to be apologetic".
In the conversations recorded by undercover Daily Telegraph reporters, Mr Cable was heard to say that he was, paraphrasing, "going to war" with Rupert Murdoch and his company NewsCorp, in its bid to become the majority shareholder in BSkyB. This poses a problem, since the business secretary was to have the final say in the ruling surrounding Murdoch's bid; he is, after all, supposed to appear impartial in such matters.
Today, Leader of the Opposition Ed Miliband, has argued that progressive liberalism cannot sit with traditional Tory policies in this coalition.
This is one of many contradictions in a Coalition government which has, since May, introduced some of the most sweeping reforms to welfare, health, education that this country has seen since the immediate aftermath of the Second World War.
Since it's inception, this coalition has tried to maintain an ideological neutrality which is proving difficult to keep up. It is not New Labour, this we are reminded of every week, whenever the financial crisis or the deficit is brought up; nor is it Thatcherite, lest it be associated with a certain hard-headedness, for which Margaret Thatcher's Tories are now historically famous. New politics is liberal and Conservative, the two are interchangeable; indeed many a joke has been made about Cameron and Clegg being somehow doubles of one another.
Yet, in its policies, this government has had to reconcile this New Politics with what it is asking the public to accept. Higher education is to become a market like never before, under the belief that this will raise standards. The NHS is to become liberalised, with the belief that GPs who have complete autonomy over all aspects of their practice will, likewise, become more efficient providers of care.
It will, however, be the government who has the final say on what is "efficient". Michael Gove's "free schools" policy, whilst representing a liberalisation of the current state school system, has a strangely authoritarian tone in its desire to close down failing schools, and implement another top down reform of the school curriculum.
This contradiction is perhaps best evident in the banks; Cable being a proponent of more punitive measures against the City banks, whilst Osborne is fearful of driving their business elsewhere.
Government may find it in an interesting position as this decade unfolds; the financial crisis took place against the backdrop of an increasingly globalised market. It was the markets that got us in this situation; in following the policies it has, this government has chosen to roll the dice and trust that, ultimately, the market will get us out of it.
In the conversations recorded by undercover Daily Telegraph reporters, Mr Cable was heard to say that he was, paraphrasing, "going to war" with Rupert Murdoch and his company NewsCorp, in its bid to become the majority shareholder in BSkyB. This poses a problem, since the business secretary was to have the final say in the ruling surrounding Murdoch's bid; he is, after all, supposed to appear impartial in such matters.
Today, Leader of the Opposition Ed Miliband, has argued that progressive liberalism cannot sit with traditional Tory policies in this coalition.
This is one of many contradictions in a Coalition government which has, since May, introduced some of the most sweeping reforms to welfare, health, education that this country has seen since the immediate aftermath of the Second World War.
Since it's inception, this coalition has tried to maintain an ideological neutrality which is proving difficult to keep up. It is not New Labour, this we are reminded of every week, whenever the financial crisis or the deficit is brought up; nor is it Thatcherite, lest it be associated with a certain hard-headedness, for which Margaret Thatcher's Tories are now historically famous. New politics is liberal and Conservative, the two are interchangeable; indeed many a joke has been made about Cameron and Clegg being somehow doubles of one another.
Yet, in its policies, this government has had to reconcile this New Politics with what it is asking the public to accept. Higher education is to become a market like never before, under the belief that this will raise standards. The NHS is to become liberalised, with the belief that GPs who have complete autonomy over all aspects of their practice will, likewise, become more efficient providers of care.
It will, however, be the government who has the final say on what is "efficient". Michael Gove's "free schools" policy, whilst representing a liberalisation of the current state school system, has a strangely authoritarian tone in its desire to close down failing schools, and implement another top down reform of the school curriculum.
This contradiction is perhaps best evident in the banks; Cable being a proponent of more punitive measures against the City banks, whilst Osborne is fearful of driving their business elsewhere.
Government may find it in an interesting position as this decade unfolds; the financial crisis took place against the backdrop of an increasingly globalised market. It was the markets that got us in this situation; in following the policies it has, this government has chosen to roll the dice and trust that, ultimately, the market will get us out of it.
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Business Fail: The Apprentice Reviewed - Week Four
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh. Melisssaaaaa. Shoulder paaaaaads.
Sorry, back to the review.
The story of this week's Apprentice is the fall of Melissa Cohen, the blond haired master of bad grammar. She sounded a bit bunged up with cold this week, poor lass. She still manages to be annoying, even when she looks at the end of her rope.
This week, the gang get called to the Science Museum. Jamie/Master Yoda, deduces that the task is either to do with "science" or "museums". Whoaa there Jamie, that was the sound of my mind BLOWING.
Lord Sugar tells them they have to sell new products/innovations to trade. They basically have to pick products that they think are sales worthy, and then sell them on to major retailers. They've been called to the Science Museum because that's where things that got invented are, you know, exhibited.
Jamie becomes the leader of Synergy. Melissa wants to be the project manager again, but no one votes for her. She looks full of flu and resentment, though it's mostly resentment.
Meanwhile, Chris Bates elects himself leader of Apollo. Chris does a little fist clench at the camera, then goes on to argue "I've proved throughout this process that I'm very good at pitching, I've proved that I'm good at selling as well." For "good at pitching" read "narcolepsy inducing". There's also a delightful moment where Nick writes something in his diary, and Chris just looks at him and gulps.
There are some eclectic items on display; a mask that gives you a facelift. I think I saw one of those in Die Another Day. There's a pilates machine, which Chris tries out. There's a t shirt and jeans that automatically buff you up/keep in the love handles. Stuart doesn't like them over on Synergy, but Chris's team goes for them. There's an eco-friendly shower head, which Synergy snap up.
Stuart, after a few weeks of good behaviour, decides to come out of retirement and become a massive ball-ache to anyone he makes eye contact with. His best moment of complete non-diplomacy comes in the moment of a presentation for some baby clothing which tells you when a baby is overheated. "Uh, would I be right in thinkin' that a baby would be DEAD if it reached 39, or 40 degrees celsius". Chris's team are dead diplomatic, and treat the woman demonstrating the Baby-Glo product like an actual person. So naturally, she gives it to them to sell.
So, to sum up, Jamie's Synergy has the eco-friendly shower head, and some uh, spades.
[I need to get in touch with my friend Caitlin, who now works at the Science Museum, but I'm fairly certain that spades have already been invented. I think these are orthopaedic spades, which mean you don't have to bend over when you garden. Wahhey, bend over, more ladz banterrr]
Meanwhile, Chris's Apollo end up with the Baby Glo and the jeans that alter your molecular density or what have you. Only by default, though, when you consider that Stuart just insulted the inventors of those two products.
Then they have to go off and sell their chosen products on. The first port of call is a Department Store, which the BBC is, I believe, not allowed to name in voiceover, because of some rules regarding product placement or something? Anyway, I think I overheard one of the teams saying "Debenhams" so I deciphered the producers' ingenious code.
Here is where Melissa comes into her element because The Department Store That Shall Not be Named doesn't sell shower heads, or garden tools. The pitch basically breaks down like this:
"This is a shower-head"
"We don't sell showers"
"But if you wanted to expand your target market"
"We have shown no interest into expanding into this market"
"If I could move on to the spade item
"We don't sell spades...why are they in Debenhams?"
After Melissa has tried and tried and tried, they leave. Maybe she sneezed on them.
Debenhams (argh don't say it three times) seem to like the Baby Glo and the Super-Jeans. Chris is marginally less boring this week. I think I managed not to lunge for the remote and switch over to Friends on E4 + 1.
They are all tired and go home to plan for the next day. Jamie's team has a "DIY superstore" to sell to tomorrow.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT'S B&Q. Well, it could be Homebase. Aargh, someone call Benedict Cumberbatch.
Jamie wants to do the pitch. Melissa makes a face, and plays with a shower head like it's a deadly weapon, asking "what's wrong with me? Because, she does this for a living. No, I think you'll find you flog plastic looking cherry muffins for a living. And stare in desperation at calculators. And commit crimes against fashion.
Later, in an aside, she warns "don't set out to undo me". I didn't know we'd strayed into Roman high tragedy territory here, but there you go.
She works her powers of persuasion again in Leamington Spa, trying to sell the shower head, which breaks down. When the buyers refuse to buy, she looks as though she is going to lunge at them. With a shower head.
There's lots of stuff going on with exclusivity in Soho and those body altering jeans. I think Paloma will win, or get down to the finals, since she's so goddamn ambitious.
The crowning poo in this week's cesspool of business ineptitude is that Stuart and Melissa, who both profess to do this "selling" malarkey for a living, make the least sales. I think I hear Sir Alan sharpening his pointing finger.
So, it's back to the boardroom. It's one of those weeks where both teams have done well, it's just one team sold a lot, while another one sold a lot, alot. In this case, it's Chris team, with the baby glo and the jeans. It's because Liz sold 19,000 pound's worth of orders to Debenhams and loads of baby glos to Kiddycare, and puts the total figure of sales up to 122,000.
(It was B&Q by the way. Cut to shot of this reviewer smoking a pipe and going "a HA")
So the winning team go to a nice spa, and wallow in hot water and their own self-satisfaction. The other team retreat to the cafe of Mediocrity and argue over a very violent violin soundtrack. Jamie blames the "sub-team". Yeah, bloody sub-team. Jamie never gets angry though, because anger leads to hate, and hate leads to SUFFERING.
In the boardroom, it is brought up that Melissa is loose cannon, a mixed bag, a firework waiting to go off. She keeps thanking people for their feedback. Lord Sugar eventually stops this feedback loop and tells her to stop saying "feedback". Jamie brings back the two stars, Stuart and Melissa.
It was at this point that I realised Melissa has stolen her entire wardrobe from Annie Lennox. Annie Lennox in the Eighties. Imagine Annie Lennox with David Tennant's glasses.
She bleats on about feedback, calls herself a "mixed bag" again and then MAKES UP WORDS. Like "professionality". Jamie defends himself well; he's a nice lad, that Jamie.
Stuart, by the way, thinks his best example of business prowess was selling yo-yos in the school playground. The school playground on the Isle of Man.
Melissa is fired, but not before muttering "well done on ganging up on me, you horrible people". She refuses the handshake/hug at the end, telling them both to get out of her face. Duh duh duh duh, duh duh, duh duh - don't tooouch me. God, you'd think it was the Queen Vic/the cast of Dallas she was leaving, not The Apprentice.
In the taxi, Melissa goes all "Samuel L Jackson in Pulp Fiction" on our asses, warning that "karmically, they will be retributed". Because "the universe speaks louder than I do".
Bye bye Melissa, you mixed bag of professionality. At least with the shoulder pads gone, I can look directly at the screen again.
Next week, there's a fashion themed show. I swear I saw Karren and Nick masquerading as shop window dummies.
Meanwhile, I'd really appreciate you're feedback on my review. How can I improve if you don't give me any feedback?
Damn you Meeeelisssaaaaaaaaa.
Sorry, back to the review.
The story of this week's Apprentice is the fall of Melissa Cohen, the blond haired master of bad grammar. She sounded a bit bunged up with cold this week, poor lass. She still manages to be annoying, even when she looks at the end of her rope.
This week, the gang get called to the Science Museum. Jamie/Master Yoda, deduces that the task is either to do with "science" or "museums". Whoaa there Jamie, that was the sound of my mind BLOWING.
Lord Sugar tells them they have to sell new products/innovations to trade. They basically have to pick products that they think are sales worthy, and then sell them on to major retailers. They've been called to the Science Museum because that's where things that got invented are, you know, exhibited.
Jamie becomes the leader of Synergy. Melissa wants to be the project manager again, but no one votes for her. She looks full of flu and resentment, though it's mostly resentment.
Meanwhile, Chris Bates elects himself leader of Apollo. Chris does a little fist clench at the camera, then goes on to argue "I've proved throughout this process that I'm very good at pitching, I've proved that I'm good at selling as well." For "good at pitching" read "narcolepsy inducing". There's also a delightful moment where Nick writes something in his diary, and Chris just looks at him and gulps.
There are some eclectic items on display; a mask that gives you a facelift. I think I saw one of those in Die Another Day. There's a pilates machine, which Chris tries out. There's a t shirt and jeans that automatically buff you up/keep in the love handles. Stuart doesn't like them over on Synergy, but Chris's team goes for them. There's an eco-friendly shower head, which Synergy snap up.
Stuart, after a few weeks of good behaviour, decides to come out of retirement and become a massive ball-ache to anyone he makes eye contact with. His best moment of complete non-diplomacy comes in the moment of a presentation for some baby clothing which tells you when a baby is overheated. "Uh, would I be right in thinkin' that a baby would be DEAD if it reached 39, or 40 degrees celsius". Chris's team are dead diplomatic, and treat the woman demonstrating the Baby-Glo product like an actual person. So naturally, she gives it to them to sell.
So, to sum up, Jamie's Synergy has the eco-friendly shower head, and some uh, spades.
[I need to get in touch with my friend Caitlin, who now works at the Science Museum, but I'm fairly certain that spades have already been invented. I think these are orthopaedic spades, which mean you don't have to bend over when you garden. Wahhey, bend over, more ladz banterrr]
Meanwhile, Chris's Apollo end up with the Baby Glo and the jeans that alter your molecular density or what have you. Only by default, though, when you consider that Stuart just insulted the inventors of those two products.
Then they have to go off and sell their chosen products on. The first port of call is a Department Store, which the BBC is, I believe, not allowed to name in voiceover, because of some rules regarding product placement or something? Anyway, I think I overheard one of the teams saying "Debenhams" so I deciphered the producers' ingenious code.
Here is where Melissa comes into her element because The Department Store That Shall Not be Named doesn't sell shower heads, or garden tools. The pitch basically breaks down like this:
"This is a shower-head"
"We don't sell showers"
"But if you wanted to expand your target market"
"We have shown no interest into expanding into this market"
"If I could move on to the spade item
"We don't sell spades...why are they in Debenhams?"
After Melissa has tried and tried and tried, they leave. Maybe she sneezed on them.
Debenhams (argh don't say it three times) seem to like the Baby Glo and the Super-Jeans. Chris is marginally less boring this week. I think I managed not to lunge for the remote and switch over to Friends on E4 + 1.
They are all tired and go home to plan for the next day. Jamie's team has a "DIY superstore" to sell to tomorrow.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT'S B&Q. Well, it could be Homebase. Aargh, someone call Benedict Cumberbatch.
Jamie wants to do the pitch. Melissa makes a face, and plays with a shower head like it's a deadly weapon, asking "what's wrong with me? Because, she does this for a living. No, I think you'll find you flog plastic looking cherry muffins for a living. And stare in desperation at calculators. And commit crimes against fashion.
Later, in an aside, she warns "don't set out to undo me". I didn't know we'd strayed into Roman high tragedy territory here, but there you go.
She works her powers of persuasion again in Leamington Spa, trying to sell the shower head, which breaks down. When the buyers refuse to buy, she looks as though she is going to lunge at them. With a shower head.
There's lots of stuff going on with exclusivity in Soho and those body altering jeans. I think Paloma will win, or get down to the finals, since she's so goddamn ambitious.
The crowning poo in this week's cesspool of business ineptitude is that Stuart and Melissa, who both profess to do this "selling" malarkey for a living, make the least sales. I think I hear Sir Alan sharpening his pointing finger.
So, it's back to the boardroom. It's one of those weeks where both teams have done well, it's just one team sold a lot, while another one sold a lot, alot. In this case, it's Chris team, with the baby glo and the jeans. It's because Liz sold 19,000 pound's worth of orders to Debenhams and loads of baby glos to Kiddycare, and puts the total figure of sales up to 122,000.
(It was B&Q by the way. Cut to shot of this reviewer smoking a pipe and going "a HA")
So the winning team go to a nice spa, and wallow in hot water and their own self-satisfaction. The other team retreat to the cafe of Mediocrity and argue over a very violent violin soundtrack. Jamie blames the "sub-team". Yeah, bloody sub-team. Jamie never gets angry though, because anger leads to hate, and hate leads to SUFFERING.
In the boardroom, it is brought up that Melissa is loose cannon, a mixed bag, a firework waiting to go off. She keeps thanking people for their feedback. Lord Sugar eventually stops this feedback loop and tells her to stop saying "feedback". Jamie brings back the two stars, Stuart and Melissa.
It was at this point that I realised Melissa has stolen her entire wardrobe from Annie Lennox. Annie Lennox in the Eighties. Imagine Annie Lennox with David Tennant's glasses.
She bleats on about feedback, calls herself a "mixed bag" again and then MAKES UP WORDS. Like "professionality". Jamie defends himself well; he's a nice lad, that Jamie.
Stuart, by the way, thinks his best example of business prowess was selling yo-yos in the school playground. The school playground on the Isle of Man.
Melissa is fired, but not before muttering "well done on ganging up on me, you horrible people". She refuses the handshake/hug at the end, telling them both to get out of her face. Duh duh duh duh, duh duh, duh duh - don't tooouch me. God, you'd think it was the Queen Vic/the cast of Dallas she was leaving, not The Apprentice.
In the taxi, Melissa goes all "Samuel L Jackson in Pulp Fiction" on our asses, warning that "karmically, they will be retributed". Because "the universe speaks louder than I do".
Bye bye Melissa, you mixed bag of professionality. At least with the shoulder pads gone, I can look directly at the screen again.
Next week, there's a fashion themed show. I swear I saw Karren and Nick masquerading as shop window dummies.
Meanwhile, I'd really appreciate you're feedback on my review. How can I improve if you don't give me any feedback?
Damn you Meeeelisssaaaaaaaaa.
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Business Fail: The Apprentice Reviewed - Week Three
Before I start my review of last week's episode, I just want to pay tribute to all the children in primary schools across the country who have mastered the art of baking cakes and selling them. Many master it from a young age, and they've done a really good job.
I just needed to say that.
So yes, the task for the remaining candidates this week was to, well, bake cakes and sell them. That's it. That's all they had to do.
Lord Sugar woke them up at half past six. The mental toll is beginning to show on some of them, and it's only week three. Melissa was spied boxing at thin air whilst muttering "raring to go". There's also a "bring it on" from Chris Bates the Ladykiller. Oh God.
They are driven to some tea rooms in central London. There, Lord Sugar feigns to appear in person, and explains why this task is relevant to the world of business. Thing is, it's never anything profound, it's alway something like "People, will pay through the nose for beach products/cakes/camels/trips to the Moon" Lord Sugar's closing joke this week is "This is turning flour, into serious dough". Some of the girls giggle churlishly.
"Oh Lord Sugar, you card."
Then he rearranges the teams, so Shibby and Chris go over to Apollo and Melissa moves over to Synergy. It's rather like re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, since they still end up bollocksing up the task.
Melissa and her Shoulder Pads become team leader of Synergy. Melissa, remember, has experience of food distribution. Apparently, she's a mixed bag of nuts, and this thing is her bag. Melissa, stop mixing metaphors like they are, uh, bags of nuts.
Shibby becomes team leader of Apollo, because well, he's a surgeon and he's good at putting his hands in gooey stuff. LIKE HUMAN BODIES. And cakes.
It turns out, in pitching to clients, that Melissa [who has food distribution experience] is afraid of maths, all kinds of numbers. In their first meeting with a hotel, she punches at a calculator like there is a small hamster trapped inside it. It falls to Alex, with his amazing propensity for names, to step in. Apparently, they are called Le Pain Artisan, and they have "a passion for high quality baked goods". Umm okay. You have a passion for high quality baked goods, since nine o'clock this morning. They have to go out of the room to do some mental arithmetic, for like fifteen minutes.The hotel manager and Sean, an angry chef, are left waiting for them.
Meanwhile, on Apollo, Shibby and Paloma become drunk on power and promise to make hundreds, nay, thousands of bread rolls, and croissants. That is, until Shibby puts the brakes on and, in a brilliant display, just goes "no" to 400 bread rolls.
I hope he doesn't just stop in the middle of surgery like that.
"Shibby, come back, this man will bleed to death"
[Long pause]
"No"
It turns out that Shibby's team can't make bread rolls very fast or, at all. They come up against Sean the angry chef, having only made 16 of the 1000 bread rolls he promised. He gives Sean £120.
Meanwhile, one bakery refuses to sell Melissa's muffins, because the cherries look dodgy. Melissa has food distribution experience, remember. Who has she been distributing it to?
Then they have to sell on the street. Melissa and co go to Kingston upon Thames. Melissa continues in Stuart's fine tradition of following and generally insulting passers-by. Shibby and the gang go to Covent Garden, or "the muffin zone" as Shibby calls it when people make the mistake of making eye contact with him.
They have to shift all their muffins, leading to Nick's grim observation that "they sold fast and they sold cheap, and, uh, it wasn't a pretty sight". Cut to a shot of pigeons feasting on a crumbling muffin.
Love a bit of symbolism, me.
So, in the boardroom, Shibby goes absolutely insane, as he tries to blame everyone but himself. Also, Lord Sugar is full of the jokes this week and, to make matters worse, people keep chuckling. Of Shibby, he asks, "so was it Dr Doolittle, or Dooalot?" Chortle. Roflcopters.
Shibby is fired. Meanwhile the winning team get to go to a restaurant with exotic dancers. Melissa has apparently forgotten she can't count to ten and gets all gloaty. Jamie does his Yoda impression again, warning the camera - "There's only one thing Melissa should do now. Learn."
Try, or try not. Do or do not.
Next week and they're in the Science Museum and it's all inventions n stuff.
I just needed to say that.
So yes, the task for the remaining candidates this week was to, well, bake cakes and sell them. That's it. That's all they had to do.
Lord Sugar woke them up at half past six. The mental toll is beginning to show on some of them, and it's only week three. Melissa was spied boxing at thin air whilst muttering "raring to go". There's also a "bring it on" from Chris Bates the Ladykiller. Oh God.
They are driven to some tea rooms in central London. There, Lord Sugar feigns to appear in person, and explains why this task is relevant to the world of business. Thing is, it's never anything profound, it's alway something like "People, will pay through the nose for beach products/cakes/camels/trips to the Moon" Lord Sugar's closing joke this week is "This is turning flour, into serious dough". Some of the girls giggle churlishly.
"Oh Lord Sugar, you card."
Then he rearranges the teams, so Shibby and Chris go over to Apollo and Melissa moves over to Synergy. It's rather like re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, since they still end up bollocksing up the task.
Melissa and her Shoulder Pads become team leader of Synergy. Melissa, remember, has experience of food distribution. Apparently, she's a mixed bag of nuts, and this thing is her bag. Melissa, stop mixing metaphors like they are, uh, bags of nuts.
Shibby becomes team leader of Apollo, because well, he's a surgeon and he's good at putting his hands in gooey stuff. LIKE HUMAN BODIES. And cakes.
It turns out, in pitching to clients, that Melissa [who has food distribution experience] is afraid of maths, all kinds of numbers. In their first meeting with a hotel, she punches at a calculator like there is a small hamster trapped inside it. It falls to Alex, with his amazing propensity for names, to step in. Apparently, they are called Le Pain Artisan, and they have "a passion for high quality baked goods". Umm okay. You have a passion for high quality baked goods, since nine o'clock this morning. They have to go out of the room to do some mental arithmetic, for like fifteen minutes.The hotel manager and Sean, an angry chef, are left waiting for them.
Meanwhile, on Apollo, Shibby and Paloma become drunk on power and promise to make hundreds, nay, thousands of bread rolls, and croissants. That is, until Shibby puts the brakes on and, in a brilliant display, just goes "no" to 400 bread rolls.
I hope he doesn't just stop in the middle of surgery like that.
"Shibby, come back, this man will bleed to death"
[Long pause]
"No"
It turns out that Shibby's team can't make bread rolls very fast or, at all. They come up against Sean the angry chef, having only made 16 of the 1000 bread rolls he promised. He gives Sean £120.
Meanwhile, one bakery refuses to sell Melissa's muffins, because the cherries look dodgy. Melissa has food distribution experience, remember. Who has she been distributing it to?
Then they have to sell on the street. Melissa and co go to Kingston upon Thames. Melissa continues in Stuart's fine tradition of following and generally insulting passers-by. Shibby and the gang go to Covent Garden, or "the muffin zone" as Shibby calls it when people make the mistake of making eye contact with him.
They have to shift all their muffins, leading to Nick's grim observation that "they sold fast and they sold cheap, and, uh, it wasn't a pretty sight". Cut to a shot of pigeons feasting on a crumbling muffin.
Love a bit of symbolism, me.
So, in the boardroom, Shibby goes absolutely insane, as he tries to blame everyone but himself. Also, Lord Sugar is full of the jokes this week and, to make matters worse, people keep chuckling. Of Shibby, he asks, "so was it Dr Doolittle, or Dooalot?" Chortle. Roflcopters.
Shibby is fired. Meanwhile the winning team get to go to a restaurant with exotic dancers. Melissa has apparently forgotten she can't count to ten and gets all gloaty. Jamie does his Yoda impression again, warning the camera - "There's only one thing Melissa should do now. Learn."
Try, or try not. Do or do not.
Next week and they're in the Science Museum and it's all inventions n stuff.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Higher higher education
University funding has, especially since the introduction of tuition fees, become one of those political, economic and social conundrums. The problem is essentially this: if you want to, as was the initial goal of New Labour under Tony Blair, get 50% of our young population through university, how do you go about funding it? More students means more money being spent per person, both by the universities, but also by the government itself, in the form of subsidised grants and loans.
This represents the third incarnation of the tuition fees system since it's initial inception in the late 1990s. This was followed by the introduction of 'top-up'fees in 2004; finally the introduction of market driven, variable fees, following the completion of Lord Browne's review.
Browne's idea is that universities should be allowed to raise fees, in theory, as much as they want. They pay a levy for any courses wherein they want to charge higher than this; thereby meaning that universities, and the Russell Group in particular, will theoretically have to justify charging 12,000 pound, which universities such as Oxford and Cambridge are expected to do by media pundits.
The figures suggest that, if the average student pays 6,000 pound in tuition fees, and takes out the maintenance loan offered, your average student will now graduate about 30,000 pound in debt. You won't have to repay until you earn over 21,000 (the current rate is 15).
With cuts planned in higher education funding, this means that universities will be now expecting to claw back money in fees. However, in order for them to rake in more money from fees than they will be losing in cuts, it is suggested that the tuition fees for most institutions will have to 7,000.
Students in this scenario end up paying more and borrowing more. This would be good, were it not for the fact that we were in this mess because the government of the last ten years presided over a cheap credit boom. The cuts of the next five years are being justified because the government cannot go on paying for things it cannot afford. This is exactly what students have been exhorted to do, ever since tuition fees were introduced. The promise of university is increasingly predicated on the idea that the money is worth paying now, because the rewards reaped later will be worth it.
The problem with the Browne Review is that it, much like many of the spending reviews conducted since the new Coalition came to power, is based solely on economic figures. A spending review should review spending, it's true. Yet, there is more to student life than merely fees and loans.
Higher education is a bit of a minefield as far as costs are concerned. Just reaming off a few examples here, but concerns such as rent, water, gas, electricity and Internet are major issues. Your average student also needs money to live on every week, and the especially cautious ones might also need insurance for laptops, bikes, possessions. Literature and humanities students often have to pay for books on top of their tuition fees. Finally, let's just factor in the idea that your average 18-22 year old is going to spend money once you give it to them. As higher education has modernised, more of a student culture has arisen. Club nights, events, holidays, there is a student industry in operation, just eating up the money that comes from subsidies.
It should too, because education at university is one of the better things in life; for the friends made, the memories treasured, the things learnt. The problem is that, in a country where more students are graduating and more are graduating with an expectation of a higher earning potential, not everyone is going to achieve this. Oversubscription of university places is also oversubscription in the graduate job market; it is a fight to get on the property ladder, the need to get savings, investments and a pension together.
It is almost unthinkable in the modern university system, for example, for a student to have savings. I don't mean child savings, I mean savings for the future. Spend now and pay back later is good enough until you have to pay back later. In the case of the new system, student loan repayments will amount to about 30 pound a month, if you are earning over the 21,000 mark. Factor in tax, NI and all the utilities I just listed, and you have yourself a squeezed graduate middle class. This brings us back to the idea of 'fairness' which has been bandied around by the Conservatives in the last few weeks as though it is a word with a fixed definition. It isn't, because students need more than a degree to guarantee walking into a job. They need extra-curricular activities, previous work experience. In the cases of getting work in the arts sector, they must be willing to work for no money when they finish university. As far as certain job areas are concerned, this means being willing to work for no money in London, which is a fairly pricey proposition anyway.
In the midst of this 'fairness'debate, the government has trumpeted the fact that the poor will still get a lot of help in going to university( in fact they may be better off). Yet, the idea of university to people from certain income brackets, from certain ethnicities and certain postcodes, is still a distant dream and is certainly a distant dream if the university in question is a Russell Group university. As far as middle class families who do not qualify for the most help are concerned, the problem is that a family putting a child through university is not a fixed mathematical equation; parental income going in does not equal graduate earnings going out. Families where only one of the parents work are already having their child benefit removed - that is another debate from another week, but said family is not going to automatically produce an offspring that is set to be a rising star at Deloitte as soon as they get out of university.
One argument for university is that it represents skills for life, not just skills for a job. Unfortunately, this is countered by the fact that most employers, in interviews, tend to deal, like governments, in cold hard facts; qualifications gained, earning potential, how you can fit in within a certain organisation. University education also exists in the wake of time spent in a still wobbly, league-table obsessed school system, which needs fixing far more than its HE counterpart.
I'll write on this some more, but the genius of the Cameron Conservatives and Clegg Lib Dems is that they are presenting a Thatcher-esque marketisation of university education with a somewhat benevolent face. So, whilst rhetoric continues to abound about university being a life-affirming experience, it continues to be reformed along business lines, by advisers who are business people. University is a fairly unique time in a person's life, but ministers cannot make claims to their being beacons of learning whilst slashing spending and messing about with numbers of places, admissions etc.
Students in this new climate ultimately become customers. Hence an English Literature student will hit the roof if they are forced to pay 6,000 for 6 hours of contact time; universities must then justify that expense with new incentives. For example, the fees for BPP, the independent law and business school, are 6,000 but this includes textbooks and learning resources. Money in universities has to be spent wisely; decisions taken by politicians on idealogical grounds will have real consequences at grass-roots levels, since student bodies have already demonstrated an eye for how their money is being allocated. Will a student want portions of their tuition fees split up and used to pay for a student union club night when there are no seats in the library come exam time? Probably yes, but still, more debates like this will be had in student unions across the country, I'm sure.
University education can either be a cultural, aesthetic, growing experience where all who deserve to learn, should. This is what your more left-wing intellectual might say, your member of staff who is teaching an arts or humanities subject. On the other hand, it is a place where young people are prepared and given a greater earning potential for an increasingly competitive job market. This might be what your CEO with ties to a big university might say (think Tesco's CEO/University of Manchester). In a time where money is in short supply, and student places are in high demand, universities may end up fulfilling neither function very well.
This represents the third incarnation of the tuition fees system since it's initial inception in the late 1990s. This was followed by the introduction of 'top-up'fees in 2004; finally the introduction of market driven, variable fees, following the completion of Lord Browne's review.
Browne's idea is that universities should be allowed to raise fees, in theory, as much as they want. They pay a levy for any courses wherein they want to charge higher than this; thereby meaning that universities, and the Russell Group in particular, will theoretically have to justify charging 12,000 pound, which universities such as Oxford and Cambridge are expected to do by media pundits.
The figures suggest that, if the average student pays 6,000 pound in tuition fees, and takes out the maintenance loan offered, your average student will now graduate about 30,000 pound in debt. You won't have to repay until you earn over 21,000 (the current rate is 15).
With cuts planned in higher education funding, this means that universities will be now expecting to claw back money in fees. However, in order for them to rake in more money from fees than they will be losing in cuts, it is suggested that the tuition fees for most institutions will have to 7,000.
Students in this scenario end up paying more and borrowing more. This would be good, were it not for the fact that we were in this mess because the government of the last ten years presided over a cheap credit boom. The cuts of the next five years are being justified because the government cannot go on paying for things it cannot afford. This is exactly what students have been exhorted to do, ever since tuition fees were introduced. The promise of university is increasingly predicated on the idea that the money is worth paying now, because the rewards reaped later will be worth it.
The problem with the Browne Review is that it, much like many of the spending reviews conducted since the new Coalition came to power, is based solely on economic figures. A spending review should review spending, it's true. Yet, there is more to student life than merely fees and loans.
Higher education is a bit of a minefield as far as costs are concerned. Just reaming off a few examples here, but concerns such as rent, water, gas, electricity and Internet are major issues. Your average student also needs money to live on every week, and the especially cautious ones might also need insurance for laptops, bikes, possessions. Literature and humanities students often have to pay for books on top of their tuition fees. Finally, let's just factor in the idea that your average 18-22 year old is going to spend money once you give it to them. As higher education has modernised, more of a student culture has arisen. Club nights, events, holidays, there is a student industry in operation, just eating up the money that comes from subsidies.
It should too, because education at university is one of the better things in life; for the friends made, the memories treasured, the things learnt. The problem is that, in a country where more students are graduating and more are graduating with an expectation of a higher earning potential, not everyone is going to achieve this. Oversubscription of university places is also oversubscription in the graduate job market; it is a fight to get on the property ladder, the need to get savings, investments and a pension together.
It is almost unthinkable in the modern university system, for example, for a student to have savings. I don't mean child savings, I mean savings for the future. Spend now and pay back later is good enough until you have to pay back later. In the case of the new system, student loan repayments will amount to about 30 pound a month, if you are earning over the 21,000 mark. Factor in tax, NI and all the utilities I just listed, and you have yourself a squeezed graduate middle class. This brings us back to the idea of 'fairness' which has been bandied around by the Conservatives in the last few weeks as though it is a word with a fixed definition. It isn't, because students need more than a degree to guarantee walking into a job. They need extra-curricular activities, previous work experience. In the cases of getting work in the arts sector, they must be willing to work for no money when they finish university. As far as certain job areas are concerned, this means being willing to work for no money in London, which is a fairly pricey proposition anyway.
In the midst of this 'fairness'debate, the government has trumpeted the fact that the poor will still get a lot of help in going to university( in fact they may be better off). Yet, the idea of university to people from certain income brackets, from certain ethnicities and certain postcodes, is still a distant dream and is certainly a distant dream if the university in question is a Russell Group university. As far as middle class families who do not qualify for the most help are concerned, the problem is that a family putting a child through university is not a fixed mathematical equation; parental income going in does not equal graduate earnings going out. Families where only one of the parents work are already having their child benefit removed - that is another debate from another week, but said family is not going to automatically produce an offspring that is set to be a rising star at Deloitte as soon as they get out of university.
One argument for university is that it represents skills for life, not just skills for a job. Unfortunately, this is countered by the fact that most employers, in interviews, tend to deal, like governments, in cold hard facts; qualifications gained, earning potential, how you can fit in within a certain organisation. University education also exists in the wake of time spent in a still wobbly, league-table obsessed school system, which needs fixing far more than its HE counterpart.
I'll write on this some more, but the genius of the Cameron Conservatives and Clegg Lib Dems is that they are presenting a Thatcher-esque marketisation of university education with a somewhat benevolent face. So, whilst rhetoric continues to abound about university being a life-affirming experience, it continues to be reformed along business lines, by advisers who are business people. University is a fairly unique time in a person's life, but ministers cannot make claims to their being beacons of learning whilst slashing spending and messing about with numbers of places, admissions etc.
Students in this new climate ultimately become customers. Hence an English Literature student will hit the roof if they are forced to pay 6,000 for 6 hours of contact time; universities must then justify that expense with new incentives. For example, the fees for BPP, the independent law and business school, are 6,000 but this includes textbooks and learning resources. Money in universities has to be spent wisely; decisions taken by politicians on idealogical grounds will have real consequences at grass-roots levels, since student bodies have already demonstrated an eye for how their money is being allocated. Will a student want portions of their tuition fees split up and used to pay for a student union club night when there are no seats in the library come exam time? Probably yes, but still, more debates like this will be had in student unions across the country, I'm sure.
University education can either be a cultural, aesthetic, growing experience where all who deserve to learn, should. This is what your more left-wing intellectual might say, your member of staff who is teaching an arts or humanities subject. On the other hand, it is a place where young people are prepared and given a greater earning potential for an increasingly competitive job market. This might be what your CEO with ties to a big university might say (think Tesco's CEO/University of Manchester). In a time where money is in short supply, and student places are in high demand, universities may end up fulfilling neither function very well.
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