Going Postal

Yes, it’s taken some time, but I’m going to blether about tomorrow’s elections. Be afraid – but don’t be too afraid, because it’s not a sweary post.

Here in the North-West, they’ve been trialling postal voting – and in many ways it’s been a complete balls-up. It was brought in too close to the polling day, and as such there simply wasn’t enough time to make sure that it was implemented correctly and smoothly. Ballot papers were misprinted, or had errors in, and then had to be reprinted, checked, and distributed (or in some cases re-distributed) all to a strict deadline. So in that aspect it’s not gone down well at all. Cynics (Yes, Ian Hislop, I mean you) have observed that all the areas that are trialling the postal vote are primarily Labour areas, and that they’re trying to get as many votes in as possible – which is an interesting idea, although I’m not sure I’m that politically cynical.

Personally, I have problems with a couple of other aspects of the postal vote. First, the “confirmation” by another person that a voter is who they say they are. This is something that’s easily forgeable – I’ve no idea how they’ll be validating that the people who have countersigned actually exist, but I can’t see that it’ll be comprehensive. And if that’s the case, then there’s a flaw in the voting procedure. Secondly, there are barcodes on each ballot paper. Voting is meant to be anonymous, yet (and maybe I’m paranoid) each ballot has a unique bar-code on it, both on the envelope and on the ballot paper. Somewhere along the line, that means it’s likely that there is some form of database holding barcode against address/voter – which means that, given any interest at all, it’s possible to figure out who’s voted for who, and that doesn’t just flaw the voting procedure, it runs the risk of breaking it totally.

I can understand that there needs to be some method of increasing voter turnout. I make the effort even when it’s turning up to a voting booth, but a lot of people don’t. In the age of instant gratification, where everything can be available at the flick of a switch or the press of a button, it’s an effort to get to a voting station. The postal voting method has already apparently increased the turnout, so it’s been a success in that context.

But what does the future hold? Will we end up “pressing red” on the TV remote control in order to vote? Or “Send a Text saying ‘Vote:[whoever]’ to 98444”? Both of these methods would require some form of validation, a proof that you had voted once and once only – the easiest way is to have that unique ID, that voter code, and unless the code is there (and only used once) then it’s a spoiled ballot. But the unique ID means that the voting is no longer anonymous, and can thus be tracked, and (for example) Opposition voters targeted by the current government in order to change their minds for the next election. It seems that it’s a double-edged sword, we either have voter anonymity, or we go for increased voter turnout.

The only way to do both is to make it that each person HAS to vote. It becomes a legal – and enforceable – requirement, the way Australia already does it. But then there has to be a change to the ballot papers – if we have to vote, there has to be an option to say “None of the Above”, a statement that while you have to vote, you don’t have to like any of the fuckers you’re voting for. I suspect that “none of the above” would be the recipient of a high proportion of the vote…

Up It

Yes, Haloscan’s up it again. With luck it’ll get fixed soon.

In the meantime, if anyone does have comments on any of the stuff I’ve posted today, they can email it to me. Then once Haloscan has it’s database unborked, I’ll add them into the system.

It’s not perfect, but it’ll do for now.

Sea Boots

Oh, Nads. I’ve got to attend a wedding this weekend, and so of course smart clothing is an essential. (People who know me are now already pissing themselves with laughter at that concept) “Suited and booted” is the expression we’re looking for.

Boots however, are now a problem. Having been to Middlesbrough last weekend, I went off to Redcar with friends for a walk on the beach. Beaches and sea are still the main things I miss since moving to Manchester, having previously spent two years living in Weymouth. That’s when I got used to a two-minute walk to the beach, and the constant sound of sea. I love it. But anyway, I digress. Redcar.

Much as I think the place itself is a pretty standard seaside dump (cf. Weymouth, Great Yarmouth, Blackpool, ad infinitum, ad nauseam) it’s got a pretty good beach – so long as you can ignore the steelworks at one end of it (which most of the photos somehow seem to miss out). So we were wandering along it, at the sea’s edge, and the tide was coming in.

Yes, you’ve guessed it – boots, covered in sea-water. At which point I gave up caring anyway, so they just got soaked in the end. I’d forgotten about the wedding.

The boots are now grey in places, salt-water having dried into the leather. That is (perhaps) sortable. The real problem is that, having been wet, they now smell. Badly. I mean really really badly. I’ve had three years use out of them, and they were on the way out anyway, but I’ve now got to buy new boots before the weekend.

Oh, bollocks.

From Shitehawks to Nighthawks

You know, some people would say I was a geek. (I know, it’s hard to believe) Perhaps I am – it’s hard to come up with another reason why I feel that Peregrine falcons breeding in London would be a pretty good reason for a visit to the capital. (I’m going to be down that way at the start of July anyway, visiting Tate Modern to see the Hopper exhibition with my father – so I suspect that a small side-trip to Regents Park may be in order)

Of course, I also think that Ospreys in the Lake District are a good thing too, although for now I stick with occasionally looking at the webcam.

Concert Hotel

I was going to blither about this yesterday, the noticed that Gert had mentioned it too, and then completely forgot. Typical.

Yesterday, the new Radisson hotel in Manchester offically opened. Normally a new hotel wouldn’t have been overly news-worthy, but this one has been built to use the frontage of the Free Trade Hall.

The entire project has been a fascinating development, taking the listed frontage of the Free Trade Hall, (built in 1856) and then trying to build something modern that still works against it. Various suites have been named after musicians and conductors that have played at the venue, which I feel also adds a nice touch to the entire concept.

The Hall has been a shell since I moved up here, and it’s good to see the building with some life in it again. I’ll probably get some photos of the development in the next few days, and bung them on d4d™ when I do.

Glowing

“Horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glow.”
My boss hums.

By chuff it’s warm. The office here was designed for Scott of the Antarctic a time before Global Warming had come into the lexicon. So it’s got one whole wall of glass, pointing directly into the sun. With no air-conditioning, and double-glazed windows. Calcutta would be proud of this particular black hole.

Of course, the thing that really tops it off is that it’s warm, and so Stinky™ is sweating like a polar bear in a solarium. Skunk is apparently the perfume of the day. Luckily, I have a fan, so some of it is being blown in other directions, rather than just coagulating into a festering miasma of hum.

Don’t you all just wish you were me?

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

In today’s Media Guardian, Roy Hattersley writes a very good piece on perceptions about homosexuality using the current scenarios on Coronation Street. I can’t say overly much, as I’d rather put cocktails sticks in my eyeballs than watch Corrie, but I can’t find much wrong with the piece either.

Soaps in general love to promote stereotypes (while continuing to have one fucking huge paradox within them anyway^*) and anything that’ll reflect and reinforce the probable stereotypes of the viewing audience. With the big two in particular, it seems that reality, and positive role models are really the purview of Serious Drama, rather than Popular Entertainment. (I hope you can hear the cynicism going into the pronunciation of Popular there) So it’s “OK” to propagate the same things, without too much hope of reality or diversification entering into the mix.

^* The paradox at the centre of soaps is that while they purportedly portray “real life”™, no-one ever comments about anything happening in the other soap.

“In the four weeks to May 11, EastEnders averaged 11.7 million viewers and a 55% audience share on Tuesdays.”

“The three episodes of Coronation Street that featured Todd’s revelations to his pregnant fiancee Sarah Louise Platt averaged 12.2 million at 7.30pm, 12.2 million at 8.30pm and 11.5 million at 10pm – an average audience share across the three instalments of 54%.”

both quotes ©Guardian Newspapers

So 12million viewers each, and yet not one of them lives on Coronation Street or in Albert Square. What’re the odds? It wouldn’t take much for that kind of reality, just the odd conversation about “Did you see what happened in {name of other soap} last night?” But no, they’ll never do it. And that’s the Soap Paradox.