Timing and Communication

The news today about the military buying 21 more Chinook helicopters “for use in Afghanistan” is – to me – a bit weird.

Fair enough, they’re being purchased, and that will help with troop movements and the like. Except even the most conservative estimates say the first ten won’t actually be “in theatre” (i.e. being used) until 2012 at the absolute earliest, and more like 2013/2014.

All of which doesn’t quite add up with the previous statements from Brown, Obama et al that the troops will start being pulled out of Afghanistan in – um – 2011.

So I wonder which date is more likely to be the correct one. My cynicism says it’s more likely to be the latter one.

Too little, too late

There’s a story on the BBC today – a headline story, no less – that extra police patrols have been placed on the street in Leicestershire where Fiona Pilkington lived with her daughter before killing them both after years of taunts and intimidation.

Ms Pilkington killed herself and her 18-year-old daughter when she set fire to her car in a lay-by in October 2007.

So it’s taken two years for those extra patrols to be put in place – conveniently (from a media and PR perspective) just after the inquest verdict came out that the lack of action/response on the part of police was at least partially to blame for the deaths.

Talk about locking the stable door once the horse has bolted. In this case that horse has run away, broken its leg, been put down and turned into glue before Leicestershire police have got round to doing anything about it.

Way too little, way too late.

Funereal

While I do think it’s sad – although hardly unexpected – to know that “the last Tommy” (the last British soldier from World War One) died at the end of July, I can’t help but find the way his funeral has been taken over today to be pretty objectionable.

Harry Patch’s request was for a small funeral party, for just family and friends. No fuss, no pomp – pretty much what one would expect from someone who led as quiet a life as he appears to have done.

Instead, there’s been tickets issued for the funeral, some 1,000-plus people in Wells Cathedral as well as a public parade, and people outside on Cathedral Green to see the proceedings on video screens. It’s turned into some kind of media carnival, with (on one report I heard just now) reporters doing a broadcast from inside the cathedral while the service was going on. (And regardless of everything else, the disrespect of that action just stuns me)

While I don’t really have a problem with people showing their respects to Harry Patch – although how many of them really knew him at all? – I don’t really get why the media et al feel that it’s OK to trample over his last wishes in this way.

Howler Sirens

While I think the idea of the new “Howler” sirens on emergency vehicles is a good idea, I can’t help but think they won’t actually work to get people out of the way.

After all, if someone is so much of a cock on the roads that a) they can’t hear sirens because their music is too loud and b) not looking  in their mirrors, then they’re not going to notice and shift if they feel the car vibrating. In fact, if the music is that loud inside the car, the odds are that the bloody car will be vibrating already.

And if the driver is that much of a cock and they do feel their car vibrating, I’m pretty sure they’re actually more likely to panic, wonder what’s wrong with the car, and probably stall it right in the way of the emergency vehicles.

So it’s a nice idea, but I suspect it’ll fail against the wall of human nature.

Bizarre Priorities

While I’m definitely not a member of the Jacqui Smith fan-club, I do find the hysteria about the expenses claim error (where the expenses included two porn films her husband had watched) to be more than a little bizarre.

Firstly, this error is about a mere £10. Not exactly an earth-shattering amount, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Secondly, the claim actually went through – this is all a storm about something that has already happened. I don’t understand why it isn’t about “Well why wasn’t the claim checked properly in the first place?“. At least that would be justified. After all, most HR/Payroll departments check expenses claims pretty thoroughly in my experience – so why isn’t it the same for MPs?

And finally, why are there calls for Smith to resign about this expenses claim – for only £10, don’t forget – when they’re not clamouring for it over the other £116,000 that’s in doubt on other expenses claims she’s made?

It’s all just a bit bizarre…

Jade Goody

So, Jade Goody died today. And already all the weasels are coming out of the woodwork (I know, it’s a mixed metaphor – live with it) with their tributes and homilies.  Of course, high up in the order is good old Gordon Brown, who wouldn’t be saying anything at all if she weren’t a reality TV “star”. (which means, “star” in the loosest possible sense of the word)  In fact, if she hadn’t died of cancer, the two-faced toss-pot would probably prefer to be deriding her as all that’s bad with the world™, a single mother with no education or job prospects.

Now, I have no problem with the fact that Goody’s cancer has resulted in a surge in the number of people getting scans for cancer – that’s nothing but good in my book.

But seeing all the tributes about how she was such an inspiration, such a great person (and even in one case “a Princess Diana from the wrong side of the tracks” – purlease!) really just makes me want to vomit.

The media seems to have forgotten that Jade Goody came to their attention as part of Big Brother (Series 3, I think) where she was villified for being

• fugly
• pig-thick
• unpleasant

She also then went on to show all these character traits again in Celebrity Big Brother where she was – let’s not forget – the epicentre of the racism complaints.

Yet somehow contracting cancer nullifies all these bad points, and turns the sufferer/victim into some kind of Joan of Arc figure, almost saintly in their purity, humility and beauty.

Get a fucking grip. She died. It happens every day. Sure, she was more in the public eye. But think on this – if someone like Margaret Thatcher were to die of cancer, would they instantly be converted to sainthood too?

Different Perceptions

Yesterday, a man was convicted of killing a 23-month-old baby. Robert Cunningham, 23, had denied murdering Brandon Muir, who died in Dundee in March 2008 after suffering more than 40 injuries, including broken ribs and a ruptured intestine. During the trial, medical experts said the injuries had been caused by a “massive blow” to his stomach area.

Robert Cunningham was, according to the media reports, a heroin addict – and Brandon Muir’s mother was a heroin addict and prostitute. As such, one assumes that the child was listed as being on an “at risk” register with social services, and indeed had been in contact with social workers two days before his death.

In the much more famous “Baby P” case, the child had been seen over 60 times by social workers during it’s 17-month life.

So why did Baby P get so much media coverage and hysteria, and Brandon Muir received little to no coverage? (except for basic reporting of the court case)

I wonder if it’s because Baby P was in London, whereas Brandon Muir was up in Tayside, Scotland? Or would that just (again) be me being horrifically cynical?