The World Is Bonkers

How many Tescos are there?

2009-05-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

I like the Daily Post. It's North Wales's only daily newspaper, and as such prides itself on being a cut above the smaller, weekly competition.

So imagine my dismay when I read the headline for a story about a new supermarket opening:

"Tesco ARE coming" (the newspaper's capital letters).

A shame it had to cap-up ARE, which only compounds the error. You or I may regularly refer to Tesco as "they" in everyday speech (not helped by the fact most people call the company Tescos), but a company is a singular entity, and I can only hope and prey there is not more than one Tesco. The Daily Post would have been better served with "Tesco IS coming". As for the town in question, I doubt it'll be any better served by Tesco whether it's coming or not.

By the way, a reader has kindly pointed out an error in my previous post (about Straits). The Strait separating Singapore from Malaysia is called Johor. The Singapore Strait separates the city from Indonesia.

But it's still only a Strait, not a Straits.

When is a strait a straits?

2009-05-20T11:53:00.000-07:00

As far as I know, there is only one Menai Strait. So why is it nearly always referred to as the Menai Straits? Why is there a restaurant in Menai Bridge called The Straits? Apparently, there is a newspaper in Singapore called The Straits Times, named after - yes, you guessed it - the Singapore Strait, which separates Singapore from Malaysia. Our own Times newspaper referred to "the Bering Straits" when they reported on a madcap idea by the Russians to build a tunnel across to Alaska. It should be, of course, the Bering Strait.

In fact, the only Straits I can think of is Dire, and that's as good a word as any to describe the general use of the word Strait.

Short story published

2009-05-13T10:09:00.000-07:00

Just occasionally I find the time to write something serious. One of my 'serious' efforts, a short story called 'Safe', has been published in an anthology of short stories called In the Shadow of the Red Queen. You can have a look at the book or buy a copy by clicking on the link below. I'll post an excerpt soon, to give you a taster...

I hate the word passionate with a passion

2009-05-09T06:44:00.000-07:00

When did it become a prerequisite to use the word passionate in your work? Especially for job interviews? It's easy to picture the scene:

Interviewer: "Why should we hire you for this job vacancy?"

Interviewee: "Because I am passionate about removing illegal dog waste deposits from pedestrian thoroughfares."

Sometimes it also helps to thump your chest while using the word passionate. Not sure why. Have scientific studies shown that the most passionate things on the planet are gorillas? I missed that one.

You won't see an episode of The Apprentice without some horribly earnest young person going on about how passionate they are about something totally mundane. "I'm ahhhbsolutely passionate about marketing!" Really? Jesus, you must be dull. Wouldn't like to meet you in a party.

I'm passionate about one thing - my dislike of the word passionate. It's been used so much that it has been rendered meaningless.

Shopping carts or small trolls?

2009-05-06T07:04:00.000-07:00

Supermarkets love getting it wrong. Not content with giving up on the word "fewer", I've now seen a sign which reads: "Please leave your trollies here."

Trollies? Are they small trolls? Or did they really mean trolleys? As in the correct plural of trolley?

Interestingly, there were a load of confused-looking children by the sign I saw. Perhaps they really do mean small trolls.

Araf!

2009-05-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the first word of Welsh any visitor to Wales learns is Araf. Nowhere can you drive more than a few hundred yards without the white lettering of Araf floating up at you from the road. Arafs must rival sheep for the most abundant blob of white in the country. Araf, of course, means "slow", and although you might think it's warning you of what to expect should you meet the locals, it's actually asking you to drive more slowly.

I can't vouch for the rest of the UK, but here in Wales - North Wales specifically, and Anglesey even more specifically than that - there's an insidious campaign to s...l...o...w u...s a...l...l d...o...w...n. Arafs are no longer enough. Neither are the more serious Arafwch Nawrs, which usually gang-up with Arafs to leave you in no uncertain terms that you're to take your foot off the gas. Now we have speed camera signs every few hundred yards or so. On entering any 30 mph zone - helpfully denoted by signs that say 30 - you also get a lighty-up sign that tells you you're entering a 30 mph zone. This is just in case the other 30 signs were ambiguous in any way, or you simply respond better to flashing lights. Then there are speed-triggered lighty-up signs that say "slow" (though usually not Araf) if you're doing more than 30 within the 30 mph zone, perhaps because you didn't see the large painted signs, don't respond to lighty-up signs, or think Araf refers to the locals. If you're lucky, there'll be no speed ramps, speed bumps, or speed guns. Then, two hundred yards, three empty holiday homes and a boarded-up chapel later, you leave the 30 zone, safely having not run anyone over.

But if this isn't slow enough, now they're slowing us down on the country roads in-between. For one thing, the 30 mph zones are getting bigger. They take an extra field or two now before they bugger off. Get past those fields and just when you think you can floor it - aghhhhhh! - what's this? 40? Why? Yet worse is to come. Reach the end of the 40 zone - and behold - you're now allowed to drive at the G-force-inducing velocity of 50!

Gone are the days when you could take a leisurely drive in Wales, enjoy the wind in your hair and watch the trees and the sheep and the fields go whizzing by. Now the trees and the sheep and the fields are whizzing by you. You know there is something really wrong with the world when caravans can keep up with the speed limit.

But, alas, this is the case. Cars are getting faster, but roads are getting slower. The world is truly bonkers. And Wales especially.

Outlook: A long, hot summer (if you live in London)

2009-05-01T09:13:00.000-07:00

Why do they do it? Why?

The Met Office has only gone and predicted a good summer. Again. The only predictable thing about the British weather are forecasters predicting it wrongly. In the same way that Sian Lloyd always describes the North Sea coast as "eastern fringes", so meteorologists just can't help but blurt out "we're going to have a good summer" every spring, before quietly slipping under an Atlantic warm front when it all goes Michael Fish. Have they never heard of cricket?

Their forecasts are too prescriptive, too, which is not my experience of British weather.

Why do we always have "mist and fog", and never "fog and mist"?

Why have we never had "spots and spits" of rain?

And why is the weather never a "mixture of scattered showers and sunny spells", but always a "mixture of sunny spells and scattered showers"? Not much of a mixture, is it?

If I was a weatherman, I'd spice up that autocue. We'd have fist and mog patches, for starters. Then we'd have conglomerates of ultra violet light and cumulo-nimbus evaporated moisture formations frequently bearing precipitation. Finally, it would piss all over London and the sun would shine elsewhere. For months.

If only I was a weatherman!

Apple's app ads

2009-04-30T03:32:00.000-07:00

Apple's latest TV ad (short for advertisement) is for apps (short for applications). Apps are software tools you can download to your new 'i'-branded App (short for Apple) gear - one tool, for example, remembers where you parked your car. Especially useful if you've parked at the Trafford Centre, or you're blonde and you've just parked. App's app ads got me thinking about another word I've seen shortened that just doesn't work.

I subscribe to a writing magazine which uses zine (short for magazine) a lot, much to my disgust. It sounds wrong. Whereas people say 'flu (short for Influenza, and usually written without the apostrophe...but not by me) and ad, have you ever heard anyone say zine instead of magazine? My brother says apps because he's a walking App ad (though I bought his Mac - short for Macintosh - off him, so I'm part of the revolution). If people say it, and it becomes part of everyday language, I think it becomes more acceptable to write it. Zine sounds wrong, it's lazy, and it's regularly used in a writing magazine of all places.

That darned 'flu!

2009-04-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

Looks like we're all going to die. Again.

It's not AIDS. It's not SARS. It's not Osama Bin-Lid, nor even feathered-friend 'flu.

No. It's swine 'flu! And it's coming to an over-reacting GP near you!

Let's start with the basics: the name. Swine 'flu. I understand 'flu can be pretty awful, but if you're going to be rude about it, then do it properly. What's wrong with calling it Bastard 'flu? You can really get your teeth into that. "I've got Bastard 'flu!" It just sounds better.

The really scary thing about Bastard 'flu is that, unlike bird 'flu, you don't have to be having sex with a runny-beaked chicken to get it. All you need to do is sit in your GP's waiting room where someone else sneezes. Oh no! Now I've got Bastard 'flu!

The news media love it. Especially TV. The boring, endless credit crunch had knocked the stuffing out of Fiona Bruce's hyperactive eyebrows, but now they're bouncing round with glee again thanks to the spread of Bastard 'flu. Gives reporters a chance to wear surgical masks and look like they have real news to report on. "We've been told to wear this for our own protection," they pronounce earnestly. Yes, and it conveniently hides their mouth as they grin at the preposterous scaremongering they're inflicting on us all.

There are two things you need to do to avoid getting Bastard 'flu: Turn the TV off, and act as normal.

Fewer, less, or under?

2009-04-15T04:25:00.000-07:00

The supermarkets have opened a new front in the war on "fewer."

For those of you who live in a cave, or on Facebook, there's a stealth campaign underway to eradicate the word "fewer" from the English language. "Less" is indeed more, since it's used and abused everywhere, often at the expense of unfashionable "fewer". Most famously in supermarkets, with their "10 items or less" checkouts.

In a bid to obfuscate the issue even more, some supermarkets have replaced the word "less" with "under". I'm sorry, but "10 items or under" is even worse than "10 items or less". And it still begs the question, what the hell is wrong with "10 items or fewer"?

According to a learned friend of mine, "fewer" sounds too posh. Yer wot? It doesn't sound posh at all. It's just unfashionable. Like me, apparently.

TV Hell - DFS

2009-04-14T03:34:00.000-07:00

Only one good thing could ever come out of the credit crunch: A closing down sale for DFS.

How come these guys seem to have an advertising budget the size of Sir Fred Goodwin's pension? Not a Coronation Street goes by without some leggy, slow-motion blonde hurling herself into a cushion-infested sofa. I end up clenching the arms of my own chair, almost protectively. As if my poor beleaguered sofa feels threatened in some way. In defiance I scream "I don't want that leggy slow-motion blonde near MY furniture!" Actually, now that I come to think of it...

Other than slow-motion blondes, does anyone take their half-price/sale ends Monday promotions seriously? And why do some sofas look like Rubik's snake? Do you sit on it, or twist it and arrange it into a toy dog?

Whaddaya mean you don't remember Rubik's snake?

But you're right. I don't get interior design.

The trouble with fiscal stimulus

2009-04-13T12:29:00.000-07:00

I have several problems with the phrase "fiscal stimulus."

The first is that it often spurts all too eagerly from the craggy jaws of Gordon Brown. Is it me, or is his mush looking more and more like a Google Earth view of the Cairngorms? Apart from the annoying habit where he buries his tongue in his lower lip after every sentence, watching him speak is like watching several lumps of dough bouncing round a washing machine.

I reckon one of the reasons why "fiscal stimulus" has been seized upon so keenly by the media is because it sounds nice when you say it. "Fiscal stimulus". There's a pleasing assonance in there, and lots of sibilant s's to slip off the tongue. This doesn't apply if you have a lisp: "fithcal thimuluth" doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

Also, I think "fiscal stimulus" sounds vaguely sexual, which is my second problem with it. Every time I hear it I think it's describing an act of sexual gratification using a clenched hand. Either I have a warped mind, or my dubious interpretation nevertheless accurately describes what our leaders are doing to the economy.

My next problem with "fiscal stimulus" is that it's one of those phrases that disappear as fast as they appear, always to the convenience of those who coin them in the first place. It's disposable language, invented by spin doctors and clever PR. It'll go the way of "weapons of mass destruction" (which was replaced by "regime change") when the political and media agenda move on. Expect "fiscal stimulus" to disappear as quickly as "credit crunch", to be replaced by phrases along the lines of "improved public spending efficiencies", "adjusted tax thresholds" and "pension recalculations."

After a year-long hiatus...

2009-04-13T01:34:00.000-07:00

...The World is Bonkers is back.
And the world is even more bonkers than it was before. I'd change the title of the blog to reflect this, but then my legion of fans wouldn't be able to find it.
I've since finished a postgraduate course in creative writing, so I'm more literary and aloof than ever. I laugh in the face of popular fiction, and want to punch the faces of Richard and Judy. What do they know? Have they done a postgraduate course in creative writing? The only texts they read are the ones viewers send via their mobiles to win a holiday to Butlins. I have news for you, Richard and Judy, the alphabet carries on after the letter C.
With my rediscovered nastiness and aloofosity (it's clever to make up words) I'm ready for a new season of blogging. I have a whole bag of rants ready to come kicking and screaming into cyberspace. It's hard to be angry and not share it, so I share it, here, with you.

Next time: The phrase "fiscal stimulus", and what Gordon Brown can do with it.

Since when was it seeooper?

2008-02-07T07:48:00.000-08:00

Well? Since when was it?

Since when did we have "Seeooper Tuesday" and "Seeooper Candidates"?

(American elections feature flag-waving adjectives too)

I'm sure the Queen liked watching SeeooperMan Returns and I dare say she has a bowl of seeoop with her creeootons, but come on!

I may be a northern lad, used to kicking footballs in ginnels and drinking beer in't Bird 'i'th Hand, but I don't think I've ever heard - face-to-face - anyone pronounce "Super" like that.

The world's most misspelled word

2008-01-24T04:11:00.000-08:00

is not "misspelled." It is, in fact, two words: A lot.

People obviously think it's one word. It isn't. Or should that be: It's not?

The next most misspelled word is "occurrence."

The word "minuscule" appears on the list, which is a good one, because before I saw it I might have been tempted by "miniscule."

Cyber geeks are now surveying blogs and using this as a barometer of how the English language is being used. A frightening prospect, I would suggest. A visit to the BBC Online's "Have Your Say" page will confirm what the geeks are saying - our language is being abused.

Or is it?

Maybe it's just evolving. What's wrong with "ppl" instead of "people"? Why not alot? As long as you can understand words, and the meaning of sentences, does correct spelling matter?

Besides, George Orwell called it Newspeak. If George predicted it, so it will be.

Agoraphobia - empty space horror...or shopping?

2008-01-23T04:24:00.000-08:00

A strange coincidence today (is there such a thing as a non-strange concidence? Is "strange coincidence" tautological? Discuss). I've spoken to a young lady who's a recovering alcoholic - one of the side-effects was depression and panic attacks, particularly associated with being outdoors. I have also learned today, quite by chance, that agoraphobia is a term used to described someone who fears entering shops. It says so on NHS Direct, and if the NHS says so, it must be so.

As someone who regularly crumbles into a heap of blubbering mush (not unlike this blog) at the thought of shopping, does that make me an agoraphobe? I often attribute my hatred of shopping with being in a crowded place, which I would describe as claustrophobic. I also fear being brutally attacked by OAPs. Have you noticed how they creep up behind you while you're studying the shop shelf, head-to-toe in tweed camouflage and trailing armoured tartan shopping trolleys, then bundle you out of the way with a deft swipe of an AK-47 walking stick? No? Oh.

Any doctors reading this? Can anyone help? Or am I an OAPhobe? An OAPagoraclaustrophobe? Throw in some of those horrible incy-wincys and I could be an arachno-OAP-agoraclaustrphobe. Beats having man-flu anyway.

When I was a wee reporter I remember doing a feature on the dangers of drug dependency. Stay with me, this is related. I can't remember how we found this guy. He lived in Orrell, near Wigan. He was talking about getting addicted to valium, temazepam, diazepam and parmesan. Then he said something which completely turned the whole feature on its head. He said, "I haven't left the house for 16 years."

His descent into drug and cheese-fuelled madness had turned him into an agoraphobe. There was an early 1990s film called Copycat, one of the many Silence of the Lambs clones at the time, where Sigourney Weaver played an agoraphobic ex-serial killer criminal profiler (you know the type). She couldn't even stand at the front door of her flat without becoming a quivering wreck. This guy hadn't opened his front door for 16 years. He couldn't go near an open window. Other people did errands for him. Then he told me that he had been seeing a shrink, and that last week he had stood at the front door, with the door open, for the first time in years. Next week it was planned that he was going to walk to his garden gate.

I remember going, photographer in tow, and this throng of people all standing round while this guy, looking for all the world like he was walking a tightrope, swayed and moaned and cursed the whole six yards to his garden gate.

So you will excuse me, NHS Direct, if I tell you that agoraphobia has nothing to do with a fear of shopping. There's a guy in Orrell who can tell you what it really is.

We need a new word or phrase for "shopping horror." Mine's "Trafford Centre" followed closely by "Bangor High Street".

All's well that ends

2008-01-08T05:46:00.000-08:00

That's it. Christmas and New Year has come and gone, and all we have left is a new hole in our belts to punch. That, and that bottle of cheap plonk we can't bear to drink.

My New Year resolution was to get published, which feels cheapened by the fact that I am already "publishing" my blog, and I continue to get media coverage for clients at work. I know lots of novelists (one l or two?) used to be professional writers, and you might think that it's an obvious step, but it feels like a double-edged sword to me. My work keeps me writing, yes, but it also lessens my appetite to carry on after hours because the notion of being "in print" is not so exciting to me. I still dream about people reading and liking my work, and seeing some fancy hardback novel with my name on it beautifully stacked in a Waterstones window, but the graduation from this to that feels more like a work promotion, and not the life-defining experience it should be. And yes, right now I can hear my mother saying, "Just pull your socks up and do it, son."

So on New Year's Eve I declared my resolution out loud, to an admiring throng, then pulled my socks up, lost my balance, dropped my beer, and fell over. Hopefully, not too prophetic.

Regarding my previous post, I have left a suggestion with the BBC that, using their new interactive, extremely over-hyped digital service, they give football viewers the option to mute football commentators while keeping the background crowd noise. This way you can watch football and get some feeling of the atmosphere, without someone destroying the English language over the top of it. And stuffing your head with brainless chat:

John Motson: "Mark, you get the feeling that whoever scores first in this game will have the edge."

My licence fee is well spent.

Ode to the Adverb

2008-01-07T08:21:00.000-08:00

I am a TV football pundit
Trevor is my name
I talk in cliches at the end of the day
And hype a boring game
But when it comes to adverbs
I'm really all at sea
I name my man of the match, and say:
"He has played brilliant."

Christmas Shopping

2007-12-24T01:05:00.000-08:00

No.
Please, no!
Noooo!
Nooooooo!

AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

aghhh

(cough)

(splutter)

(thud)

Predictive Reporting Strikes Again

2007-12-23T12:32:00.000-08:00

You may recall, if you've been around since the beginning of this blog, my rant against predictive reporting. It's where experts predict the worse case scenario to cover their backsides, and news reporters hype it up further still because there's no other news.

And so, Friday was going to be "Black Friday" - the day when 18 million cars hit the roads (at 3pm, according to traffic experts) and Britain would grind to a halt. The first thing news editors had to do was to make this news, since Britain grinds to a halt every Friday. Hence the "Black Friday" tag, ensuring in everyone's minds that this would be no ordinary Friday. And there was indeed nothing ordinary about it, because when I drove home on the A55 it was the quietest Friday traffic I'd seen in a long time. The hysterical reporting was exposed when, during the 6pm bulletin, the BBC cut to its reporter in a "traffic control room" (since when did a traffic control room control traffic?) for the latest, only for the bank of CCTV screens behind the admirably straight-faced reporter to show free moving traffic everywhere.

But wait! "Black Friday" wasn't finished yet! This was the night that millions of yoofs would drink themselves into oblivion, rampaging through our towns and cities in Santa hats, causing all manner of murder and mayhem. But lo and behold! in the early hours of Saturday morning there was PC Spokesman on Sky saying it had been no different to any other Friday.

Thank God for some more missing data discs today. Otherwise we'd be facing "Blue Monday", and certain death for us all.

Mission Impossible

2007-12-18T07:25:00.000-08:00

Mission statements amuse me. They're well-meaning, and most businesses find them quite useful to keep a sense of perspective to progress. But there are some statements that just don't know when to stop. Such as this one, from a charity called David Lewis Centre.

Take a deep breath:

To establish and maintain homes where persons suffering from epilepsy, other allied diseases and associated problems may receive suitable medical treatment and may enjoy the advantages of regular life with healthy surroundings and where under the necessary supervision they may according to their age and sex and condition be individually trained and suitably employed and otherwise to assist those suffering from the afforementioned complaints with the object of improving their conditions of life by such means as are thought fit including the provision of facilities for recreation or other leisure time occupation.

Come on, guys. You're allowed to use more than one sentence.

Here's my personal mission statement:

To moan.

Keeps me on track, see.

While or whilst?

2007-12-13T04:42:00.000-08:00

Right. This one scores a mighty 8.9 on the Thomas Rantometer.

So sit straight and pay attention.

Why do people continue to use the word "whilst"? Solicitors apart, who heretofore and hereinafter justifye theyre fees bye inventyng a new langwyge, shouldn't we use "while"?

Whilst is archaic. It's history. You'll never hear it spoken unscripted.

I can only think there is something phonetically more pleasing (to some) about whilst, compared to while.

For example:

Whilst walking the dog the other day, I bumped into my solicitor. "Thou shalt add that to thy tymesheet," he growled (the solicitor, not the dog).

What's wrong with:

While walking the dog the other day, I bumped into my solicitor.

And what's wrong with the non-passive, I bumped into my solicitor while walking the dog the other day.

In fact, the word "while" is a pile of pants. If you write a sentence and it contains "while", revise it and get rid of it ("I was walking the dog the other day when I bumped into my solicitor" is just peachy!) If you write a sentence and it contains the word "whilst", revision is unnecessary. Simply burn the page, or smash up your PC, and shoot yourself.

Amidst? Now we're touching 9.5 on the Rantometer...

Wi teengrs wd mk gd shrthnd rtrs...

2007-12-13T03:57:00.000-08:00

Or, Why teenagers would make good shorthand writers...

It occurs to me (as things occasionally do) that the arts of texting and Teeline shorthand are similar. Both require spelling of words phonetically, or dropping vowels. 'Would' sounds like 'wud', and in Teeline shorthand you drop the vowel and simply write two joined symbols for the letters 'w' and 'd'. If you're texting, you write 'wd'. It's the same!

And as blogs go, isn't this the most unfathomably random and entirely pointless entry you've ever read?

The Blake's 7 Bunker (see previous post)

2007-12-10T12:45:00.000-08:00

The Blake's 7 Bunker. This is the sight that greets walkers making it to the summit of Snowdon.
Who needs nature when you can have man-made?
This is the likely reaction of people on seeing the Blake's 7 Bunker. This is me, photographed by my brother. He lives in Cambridge, where the highest thing he has to climb is a kerb.
This is how Snowdon should look. The East Ridge looms on the left.

TV Talent Show Script Template

2007-12-10T10:38:00.000-08:00

To create your TV talent show script, rearrange the following phrases as appropriate:

"It's just amazing!"
"I've been on an incredible journey."
"It's incredible!"
"I want to thank my mum and dad."
"What would you like to say to the judges?"
"It's so amazing!"
"I've had a brilliant journey."
"In no particular order."
"Vote now."

That should do it.

I walked up Snowdon today. Started at Pen-y-Pass and walked along the East Ridge to the summit, then slithered down the ice and snow at the top of the Pyg Track before returning to the start. Snowdonia is stunning at this time of year. Forget summer. This is a winter wonderland. It's made for low silvery light and gushing streams and snow-packed hollows amid black rock. Of course, you have to put up with the gales and the knuckle-cracking cold. You also have scaffolding, workmen and machinery buzzing around the new summit cafe, which is currently under construction. The cafe looks like a bunker out of Blake's 7. More worrying is the fact that I'm old enough to remember Blake's 7.

What a journey I've had. It's been absolutely amazing.

'Tis the season for bah humbug

2007-12-03T05:28:00.000-08:00

December 1 has come and gone with its annual explosion of household fairy-light fanaticism. Every urban street has at least one devotee, busy unravelling miles of extension cables in readiness for six weeks of perpetual daylight.

No more so than in the tiny hamlet of Pantperthog, which nestles amid towering conifers in a deep river valley between Machynlleth and Corris. It's a place of outstanding natural beauty. All you can see is a rushing river and miles and miles of trees.

But not in December.

On an end terrace of three houses is a fairy-light spectacular that's surely visible from space. At the flick of a switch this weekend the Dyfi forest's entire squirrel population must have keeled over in shock. I wish I'd stopped to take a photograph, but the glare off the wet road meant I had to concentrate on where I was driving, and it's a long trip from Pembrokeshire to Anglesey. I wanted to get home.

The garden is reserved for reindeer and sleighs and waving Father Christmases, all consuming more amps than Live Aid 2. But then there's the house. Or at least, there was. Now it's just lights. Like the mother ship in Close Encounters, the house is coursing with so much power it's generating its own magnetic field. If you're orienteering in the Dyfi forest this December, stick to GPS - your compass is buggered.

Best of all, though, is that this wattage wonderland is no more than 200 yards from the Centre for Alternative Technology. I had to concentrate on the road again, because I was laughing. Then I thought: What better snapshot of mankind's dilemma over climate change than this?

I spent the weekend in Pembrokeshire, swapping Christmas presents with family, visiting and so on. On the way back I stopped at Ceibwr Bay, midway between Fishguard and Cardigan on the coast. There was a gale blowing, with bits of sea foam blowing up and over the black cliffs like drifting snow. I stood on the coast path and watched a grey seal sheltering in the bay, and I was warmed by the thought that right there, right then, Christmas meant absolutely nothing.

The Death of Marketing (Capital letters appropriate)

2007-11-30T00:55:00.000-08:00

I've just been to a workshop where the lecturer told us marketing as we know it will soon cease to exist! Yippee! That's me looking for another job, then. Well, not quite. I'm in PR, an industry which is in its own crisis (Thank you, Alistair Campbell and friends). But marketing and PR is mixed up in the same conspiracy: Big Business Wants Your Money.
Still, unlike a lot of these marketing events, this one was very interesting. In the US there are now websites where kids join up and compare their sneakers (trainers to us). That might immediately prompt a lot of head-scratching, but think about it. When I was a kid I remember being very conscious of how "good" my trainers were. They had to be a certain level, a certain brand. This meant buying them first and comparing them on the playing fields. God help if I got it wrong. Now the little darlings are discussing them on a website first, before they pester mum and dad to go buy.
Where does marketing fit into that?
The best use of social sites is coming out of Thailand. Let's say a new, top-of-the-range camera is coming out. A bunch of camera geeks "meet" on a social site and organise to go to a shop on a certain day at a certain time. They can turn up in their 100s. They say to the store owner: "We will all buy this camera, now, if you give us a discount." Of course, the store owner's about to sell 100s of cameras in one day. He'll give a discount.
Brilliant. Wholesale for the consumer.
But where does marketing fit into that?

Random rant 1: The phrase "up in arms" appears in every edition of every local newspaper throughout the UK. Stop it! It's archaic. No one uses the phrase any more, except you.

The Death of Marketing is actually good news for PR, in my view. Here's the distinction between the two: Marketing works for profit, PR works for reputation (but when mixed with politics it becomes spin). If we're saying more and more people are going to buy, or use services, based on the experiences and feedback of others who have bought that product, or used that service, then reputation will count for much more than advertising. The marketing guru at the workshop said "value" would be the key - what value, benefit, feeling, kudos - does buying that product or service give to a consumer. I would argue that a company with a good, ethical reputation is central to that value.

Random rant 2: The changing definition of the word "workshop." From: A place where traditional crafstmen and women created their wares. To: A venue where a learned person gets his or her audience to do their job for them.
Stop it! That's not a workshop! It's a lesson. It's a classroom. It's learning.

Random rants 3 and 4 (shared with Keith Waterhouse, admittedly): "Meteoric rise." Because that's what meteors do, right? "Scooped a prize." What sort of prize would you scoop, exactly?
STOP IT!

I've lost the plot now.

Capital Punishment

2007-11-27T04:41:00.000-08:00

AGHHHHHHH!!!
Why is it when People are Describing Their Role At Work they have to Explain it as though it is a Proper Noun?
Example: "I work in HR and my Role is to Report on Complaints as well as Manage Sickness Absence."
Well, goody. You can start by Managing this Complaint and my Sickness of Capital Letters.

I'm attending the Newborough Forest Liaison Partnership this evening. That's a proper noun for a proper title, by the way. Even so, I will be forced to read reports more slowly than usual, thanks to the abundance of capital letters.

i might start a campaign for the abolition of capital letters, on the following grounds:
people don't know how to use them anyway
we don't have them in email addresses
if there is a full stop, or the sentence starts on a new line, do we really need a capital letter?
"prime minister gordon brown" somehow looks more appropriate

now look what these damn capital letters have done. they've got me started on politics.

Pea pull who rely on word processor spell cheques

2007-11-16T06:02:00.000-08:00

Have ewe noticed sum times when ewe reed sum thing that the spelling is awl over the plaice but the words are reel enough? Well come to the lazy pea pull who rely on spell cheques.

This phone omen on is very a parent inn the BBC mess age boards, wear ewe all ready no eye spend rather two much of my thyme. Simple frays is like "counsel tacks" and "my grey shun polo sees" cause awl kinds of difficult tees for folk who clear lea cannot spell fore toff fee, butt are guy did buy there spell cheques. It beg errs be leaf.

The pea pull who inn vented spell cheque soft where shudder known it wood lead too this Malays and create a pop ewe lay shun ignore rant inn the core wrecked ewes of lang wage.

Dam! My spell cheque says "lang" is knot a word.

And the point of Facebook is?

2007-11-13T05:26:00.000-08:00

OK, I'll hold my hands up. I have an "account" with Facebook. For this I get a page with details about me that I can share (favourite movies, favourite music and so on) with, er, others. I can have friends. I can send people a beer, and have an animated fish tank on my page, and take part in ditzy word games in something loosely referred to as a "network."

I won't be the first to point this out, and nor will I be the last, but Facebook is just the latest website demonstrating how the internet is still desperately trying to bring us all together. And failing. Web 2, they call it. Web 1 was all about having advertising space on a computer. Web 2 is about people talking to each other. The distinction is rapidly vanishing, as I work in the marketing industry and I know the people who did Web 1 advertising are working out how to sell their wares via Facebook, MySpace and all the other Web 2 fads currently doing the rounds. You're being sold to every second that you're online.

And what are people talking about? Facebook will either delight you or frustrate you. Take a quick look and you'll soon see a bunch of people typing things to kill time. It's literally as random as that. There may be people using it for business, or arranging meetings, or dating even, but i'll be damned if I can see it. It's just a glorified chat room. And just like it's predecessor, which has got a bad press thanks to paedophiles, it will become a cyber-dinosaur once the next Web 2 (or Web 3?) application finds its way from some computer nerd's bedroom to www-dom.

Does Facebook bring us together? No. It simply serves to remind us that once upon a time we used to meet up and play word games face-to-face, using little plastic tiles with letters on them and foldaway scoreboards, rather than sitting on our own bashing on a keyboard. Does it make our lives better? No. It's no more than a diversion, and don't we have enough of those already? Is it interesting? No. The novelty of seeing ourselves on the internet has already worn off.

Long before Facebook sells-out for commercial gain, we'll have moved on to something just as useless.

The Rising Tide of Media Mayhem

2007-11-09T07:32:00.000-08:00

I had 20 minutes until deadline and the news editor told me that my story was going to be the front page splash.

This induced a horror in me like I'd never felt before. Previously I'd chatted to the mother and father of a 12-year-old who, a day earlier, had melted his brain with a heavy session of glue sniffing. I'd listened to a single mum whose only child, a victim of some obscure disease, lay in a coffin in the centre of the living room where we sat with a cup of tea. No horror here. Just my best attempt at dignity, and 100-words-a-minute shorthand.

I filed this front page splash, knowing full well it wasn't front page material but too terrified to say so (since we had nothing else), and I duly got the news editor on the line seconds later. He said: "Can you put some top-spin on it?"

I saw the recent BBC TV coverage of the tidal surge and predictions of flooding that was set to wipe out vast swathes of East Anglia, and this phrase, "Can you put some top-spin on it?" came back to haunt me.

I put "top-spin" on my story and, through the pressure of having to make something up to make a small story a big story, misquoted someone. We had to print an apology to avoid getting sued and I nearly lost my job. I never told anyone that I'd been asked to put "top-spin" on it. I reckon someone owes me one.

Anyway, it occurs to me that journalists have a new rule. This rule is very similar to the "top-spin" argument. It is no longer enough to tell the news as it happens. Now they have to tell the news before it happens. It involves guesswork, and adds more weight to the phrase, "Never let the facts get in the way of a good story."

News has evolved in three stages. First we had news after the event had occurred. Then we had news as it was happening. Now, heralded spectacularly by the BBC's coverage of the catastrophic flood that wasn't, we have news that's going to happen shortly. And there's going to be more of it. Why? Well, anyone charged with the task of raising the alarm to protect the public is going to do so more frequently and more openly, for fear of being criticised for not doing enough. So journalists will get plenty of warnings of impending disaster. The words "precaution" and "vigilance" might define the 21st century.

Journalists are a dwindling breed. The bloggers, the PRs, the man in the street with the video camera on his mobile phone are the new generation of reporters. So it's not enough for journalists to report on something as it's happening. We're already there. They have to beat us to it. Be better informed. Be the first one to say it.

Journalism has always been this way, of course. But reporting on news before it happens will only lead to gross exaggeration, "sexing-up", adding "top-spin" - whatever you want to call it. The only question is, how many East-Anglia-flooding-catastrophies-that-never-were will it take before the six o'clock news turns into an interactive "push the red button to choose the manner of your death" with some macabre Mystic Meg?

Kill Ed!

2007-11-07T08:01:00.000-08:00

Don't you just hate that?

You're in the middle of a perfectly decent, interesting, well-written article (not at all like this one! - Ed) when some interfering old git called Ed (watch who you call Ed! - Ed) keeps interrupting with unfunny comments that break the flow of the piece (ok, I'll stop interrupting now - Ed).

In keeping with this blog's balanced view of the world, there's only one thing for it.

KILL ED!

"In a world where there are no scriptwriters..."

2007-11-05T06:35:00.000-08:00

I received feedback from a business proposal the other day. Usually we get comments like, "Why have you included this?" and "Why haven't you said that?"

This particular feedback contained advice on grammar and use of English.

I was appalled, as you can imagine. One piece of advice was, "There's no such word as 'won't'."

Sadly, I'm one of those people who, as soon as someone says, "Did you close the front door when you left?" has to check that I did. So now, faced with troubling doubt over the validity of my self-proclaimed linguistic prowess, I was really wondering if there was no such word as "won't."

It brought back memories of sullen Sunday afternoons, rolling sprouts around a gravy-soaked plate, hiding them under the stripped bones of pork chops, face pulled, and my mother barking, "There's no such word as 'can't'!"

Both "can't" and "won't" are there in the dictionary, of course. But then so is "godammit", and that's never been a word in my book (what book?).

Even so, it was right and proper that following this mighty victory I had a rant in the office, finishing with a polite email in reply, along the lines of, "I won't be drawn into a lecture on English" and "Come back to me, won't you?" though resisting the temptation of using bold type.

Speaking of bold, it's good to hear that the people who the make the Hollywood stars - scriptwriters - are striking. They want a bigger slice of the pie from DVD sales. Is this an opportunity for scribes on this side of the pond to get their work in front of studio execs?

I'd love to write film trailers. I want to hear my words spoken by that guy who's got rocks in his throat. "In a worrrrrld where there are no ruuuuules...one maaaan...against all the ohhhdds..." See? It's just so easy. I'd get Voiceover Man to give us his growling treatment to something twee: "Once upon a time, in a worrrrld with talking rabbits, Flopsy, Mopsy, Coddon-tail and Pederrrr..." Then you have to add in: "It's the motion picture event of the yeeeaarrr..." And then throw in some credentials: "Academy Award Winner Flopsy, Golden Globe Award Winner Mopsy..." (with capital letter captions, naturally) and so on. I suppose with animation we'd have the voice cast: "Desperately in need of work Demi Moooore, far funnier when you can't see him Eddie Murpheee, and token cockney Brit Bob Hoskins...in the comedy motion picture event of the yeeeaaarr..." (See what I did there? Clever, eh?)

All we need now is an Andrew Davies script treatment of the Tale of Peter Rabbit, ("Dahhling, delectable Flopsy, my lips yearn for the tickle of your damp whiskers! I long to caress the furry contours of your paws! Let me put you in a pie and gobble you up!" "Ooh, Mr McGregor, you do tease so!") and we'll be on our way to movie fame!

Or maybe I won't be.

I'm aware now that a fellow writing student will be asked to critically review my blog. That's ok. I'm an amenable guy. I have a great sense of humour and can laugh at myself as easily as I would laugh at anything else.

BUT SLAG THIS BLOG OFF AND I'LL KILL YOU!

Only kidding. In fact, I'd like to help you in your critical analysis. Feel free to disagree with any of my findings:

Intended audience: You

Power relationship: Married for 10 years, and yes, She rules.

Phonology, technique, lexis etc: I'm really not that clever. Sorry. You can question my sanity if you like, though.

Who needs words anyway?

2007-11-02T06:04:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning to this...

Altogether, now: "That's...amazing!"

Another over-used word to chew on is "absolutely." Want to hear my theory about this one? What do you mean, "no"? Did you mean to say "yes"? Or did you really mean to say "absolutely"?

"Absolutely" takes longer to say than "yes", which is why it's used more as a substitute for "yes" in spoken English than written. It buys people time to think what they're going to say next. Maybe it means they secretly think "no" and so need more time to find reasons for their false agreement. "Yes" doesn't have the same, multi-plosive appeal that "absolutely" does. And I challenge you to find the phrase "multi-plosive appeal" in any other Dictionary Corner.

I've heard a new variation on the "absolutely-yes" phenomenon (if I may be so bold to call it that, and I may, because it's my blog, and chances are no one will ever read it anyway). We'll call this the "drop-intro absolutely". Why? Because the speaker doesn't say "absolutely", they say "ahhhbsolutely", as if the word gets stuck in their throat. This new variant of the "absolutely-yes" phenomenon is more disturbing, because now the speaker wants to use a word even longer than "absolutely".

So I'm starting a campaign to replace the drop-intro word "ahhhbsolutely" with a similar-meaning word that gives you that extra syllable you're so desperately craving. It's "indubitably". Try saying it now. It has massive multi-plosive appeal and the "ably" ending gives it a lovely wobbly flourish. Tell it to your friends and colleagues. Get your children to repeat it. Train the family pet. The great thing about "indubitably" is that, once it ceases to be long enough, you can replace with "innnnnndubitably".

We are delighted!

2007-11-01T09:57:00.000-07:00

I've witnessed three occasions today when the word "obligated" was used. You may have an obligation. I may be obliged. But when are we obligated?

Being a writer puts pressure on oneself to spout prose so clean you could lick your dinner off it (which, incidentally, is all it's usually good for). Studying a Postgraduate Certificate in Writing - the capital letters denoting the importance of it (forget the proper noun rule) - adds to that pressure. It's almost too much to bear.

What is too much to bear is lazy PR. What is lazy PR? It's lazy journalism, but better paid. Lazy PR is when someone writes a story about a client, often a business interest, and persuades a journalist to print it in a newspaper or magazine and pass it off as a news story.

In a part of the world (North West Wales, capital letters not denoting any importance whatsoever) where the Rotary club's annual general meeting is hot news, finding something newsworthy is not difficult. So maybe in this relaxed regime of newstelling we could make more effort with our words.

How many times do you see, hear or read a direct quote from someone, which starts along the lines of "We are delighted..." or "I am delighted..."? I am delighted to report that anyone who's printed as saying "We are delighted" never said it. It's the biggest giveaway of a made-up quote you'll see.

Come on, PR people, let's be more creative! What's wrong with, "It's Thursday and I wish it was Friday"or "Did you see Corrie last night?" Forget getting the sales message across. Say it like it is.

This is where I reckon blogs come in. It's a place where people can rage against their PR-managed public persona and say what they really think. Imagine that? Richard Branson saying "God, I hate my beard and this damn sweater. Let me shave and wear a suit!" or Gordon Ramsay claiming "It troubles me that I come across as awfully rude, and all this shouting and frightful swearing is so ghastly. I only ever wanted to be a fashion designer."

Now that would be news.

First Contact

2007-10-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

This is a blog for ranting. And not just a rage against the machine, but the whole damn factory.

It's sad that my first blog should be reserved for such negativity. But what do you want? A diary of hillwalking (today I walked up Moel Famau, ate a squashed sandwich, drank tea from a submarine-sized Thermos flask, shivered, came back down again)? A commentary on the seasonal changes in my garden (a leaf just fell...and there goes another one!)? How about "My day at the office" (went to the kitchen to clean the cups - be gone with you, you smelly three-week old scum marks!)? Or, eek, my fingers are trembling here, "My day" (well, apart from cleaning three-week old scum marks from the office cuppery, today was just like yesterday - refer to entry above)?

Because it's my first blog, I thought about using it for something clever. But then I'd have to write it.

In any case, there's nothing like a good old fashioned rant. Besides, I've seen other blogs that appear to be nothing but a stream of rants (some constructive). A lot have a common thread and it's clear what gets their goat. Others are just reading the Daily Mail while they type.

So, in my writing class the other night, inspired by a campaigning globetrotter who's seen and done some pretty incredible things, I started earnestly with this:

"The public sector in Wales is sucking the life out of the private sector. To put it another way, your taxes are paying for the erosion of the country's wealth."

But that's rubbish, isn't it? It's boring. Who cares? Who in their right mind will sit at a computer and read pages about that? There's a messageboard on the BBC website called "Have Your Say" and it's bursting with negativity (my kind of reading). People can type a short message about whatever the news topic of the day is, and then get an e-buzz when they see their prose in pixels. It's the variety of topics, and the brevity of peoples' opinions, which makes it weirdly compelling reading.

So yes, the public sector is sucking the life out of the private sector in Wales, but it's not sexy or soundbitey enough to go into here.

Today's topic on Have Your Say is immigration. Too right. But I have more weightier concerns. Such as, the overuse in spoken English of the word "amazing." Listen to any interview of a half-intelligent person on the street, or a quasi-intelligent celebrity, and wait for the word "amazing." You'll be, er, astounded.

Tomorrow's hot topic: Why do we refer to people as "legends" when they're neither historical nor mythical figures?