The last time i wrote in this space was all grumpy about the ground rents for scout troops. It seemed completely stupid, me to risk pricing out of the existence of a force of every good thing: an organization that teaches children altruism, focus and practical skills. And the largest of these is the focus.
"Just look at them on Jamie's School dinners!" Roared. "Texts mobile and twiddling on their mobile phones, while the teacher speaks! It is because no one ever showed them how to sit quietly and do a blasted thing at a time! Four hours trying to pitch a tent in the rain, it is what would have learned these little weevils to concentrate! "
See what has happened now. I will come back for a minute, and speaker rules that members can use iPads and Blackberries in the House of Commons. What? These middle-aged, professional speakers now have no attention span either? It's just not interesting enough to argue about whether or not to bomb Libya or axe hospitals without surfing porn and play Tetris at the same time?
Perhaps, they will like to have a tv with a specified in there, so that they can see Peter Andre: the next chapter in the Prime Minister's questions? Or prefer a live band? A Basketball Hoop? Paddling pool?
The idea of Mrp texts mobile and send e-mail through debates makes my gorge rise, as when a minicab driver makes phone calls at the wheel. I do not pay you can keep in touch with your helpers! I pay you deliver to me secure my destination/challenge defence budget, and I pay enough to make it with your full attention ON THE BLOODY JOB!
Politicians say this will be a way for them to keep abreast with constituency business while sitting in the House. I hear the distant voice of Mandy Rice-Davies point out that they would, they would.
Oh, I am sure they will mean that. They would mean to whip out iPad solely to ensure that Mrs Smithers get leak fixed in his Council House. But we all know the Internet how to work. I sat in my laptop now because I think, to write a column. Nevertheless, I played between the last paragraph, and this is a game of online poker, read a long joke sent by a person, I never particularly wanted, and wrote "the world's silliest face" in Google just to see what happened.
(Strangely, it came back with the question, "did you mean the world's scariest face?" No, I do not. I do not want to see the world's scariest face. If you do, try, to write "the world's silliest face" in Google – although not ideal, if you are currently driving me to Paddington.)
Anyone who is committed to the House of Commons television coverage at the workplace is often empty. I like it I am a big fan of political transparency. It is good for us to know what debates MPs considers to be important enough to show up for, and which are not. I do not want to be tricked into thinking that the House is full and all take something seriously when the rank-and-file members are all secretly on their blackberries, forwarding jokes and offers on eBay.
This is not a rant against the MPs. one of my friends is a MP and he is a highly motivated, hardworking, dedicated colleague – which does not mean all is, but it certainly means that not all are not. I am sure that most commuters away on this hard job of all the right reasons. If they do not receive enough money or enough time to balance the constituency work and national businesses, they find the bottle to say it and change the system.
Nr; This is a rant against the creeping acceptance of electronic communications exercises all the time: on the bus over dinner at the cinema. We are really all, losing power to concentrate hard and clear on one thing for a considerable period of time.
I choose not to perform the Internet in my Pocket (you hardly can make phone calls on my mobile; it functions primarily as a paperweight) but I know my attention span is shrunk only from below the home. Most days, felt my web Hotel brain a drunken bee, caught by a pint glass. It is not the State, where I will David Cameron brain, when he must decide how much VAT I want to pay, or how close I will live to a nuclear reactor.
Feud mixer
Please talk nuclear reaction, not be cross-border when I tell them that I had lunch with Michael Winner last week.
Some readers may remember that Mr winner and had a "Twitter feud" a couple of weeks ago, after some online comments, there are better unrepeated. We had never met. My feelings about comments are unchanged.
But I was touched when he proposed lunch. I have always hated the idea of the implementation of the nag and resentments around as a centre-axle trailer, load on mouldy suitcases. And you, what? He was in the flesh, charming. Funny, friendly, do not delete unchivalrous. A little scary with the servant. My brother was there; I enjoyed watching two critics kvetch professionally on service times and whether the cloth to be changed, while I thought: "Ooh, it is nice, another makes the cooking".
All is complex, with multiple pages. I am sure, Michael Winner will say many things in the future, I would say myself. But I enjoyed his company, to the point of feeling genuine love. He was just a twinkly, mischievous old colleague. I hope I do not want to destroy our new entente cordiale by observing, sits opposite him, I suddenly missing my grandfather.
Then again as Holden Caulfield said, start sooner or later you are missing any.
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