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I’ve seen a few people sharing the spreadsheet of allegations about sexual misconduct by various Conservative MPs. Some of the allegations are very serious indeed.

I would remind people of the Lord McAlpine case; McAlpine was falsely accused of child abuse and went on to threaten broad-ranging legal action. He dropped the cases against people on Twitter with less than five hundred followers who had retweeted the allegations if they made a donation of twenty-fine pounds to Children in Need: having a small footprint on social media isn’t a defence. It also led to McAlpine v Bercow, and to George Monbiot doing £25k worth of charity work, and the BBC (and, I think, others) paying hundreds of thousands of pounds in damages.

I’m sure that everyone publicly sharing the spreadsheet has taken the time to consider whether it might prejudice a fair trial in future.

Beyond that, some of the allegations that appear on the list are private matters that really shouldn’t be linked with some of the very serious allegations on the spreadsheet. One of the charges that appears on the spreadsheet is that an MP had a ‘workplace relationship’ with another MP; so what? One of the allegations that appears most often on the list is ‘inappropriate with…’. The list is apparently about sexual misconduct; if a workplace relationship or a male MP having sex with a man is ‘misconduct’, it does suggest that some of the ‘inappropriate with…’ charges could be veiled accusations of homosexuality, alcoholism, and so on.

Drinking too much, having consensual sex with colleagues, being gay, or having non-standard sexual preferences really aren’t anyone’s business. No-one – not even MPs, not even MPs from a different party – should be linked to allegations of making someone have an abortion just because they’re closeted.

Some years ago – I forget exactly when – I came across a game called Empire Attack. It was very simple: a grid of rectangles. You start with one grid square filled in and you can take over others by clicking on them. The longer you wait to click, the greater the population you put on the square. Coins would appear and clicking on them would cause an explosion onto four, eight, or twelve squares, putting your flag on them. You could sometimes find whole areas filled with coins, so that clicking on one coin could fill in thousands of squares at once. Other players were there, and you battled to take over other people’s empires and generally have the biggest.

It was a simple game, but it was a huge amount of fun. I played every variation of it (although, sadly, never completed one of the ten day games). I had a clan of one for the clan games, and reached sixteenth place overall in season 1. Sadly, Empire Attack has now closed. I suppose I want to say thanks to the people behind Empire Attack and all the players. It showed that a simple game with simple graphics could be endlessly fascinating and I’m sad it’s gone.

In a world exclusive, I can reveal that Huntingdon Constituency Labour Party uses Slack to stay in touch.

I presume this is newsworthy as Skwawkbox has run a couple of pieces [1, 2] about Lobby journalists using WhatsApp. Skwawkbox is trying to say that the Lobby is too cosy a set and is prone to groupthink. That is not an unreasonable position, and I talk below about how you could reasonably go about making the argument. What is unreasonable is the way that Skwawkbox makes its arguments. Fearless reader, accompany me up the garden path!

Skwawkbox’s first story starts with a post on Paul Staines’ Guido Fawkes blog that mentions, in passing, that ‘colleagues’ of Matt Chorley feel that he’s been on WhatsApp forever. This is Staines’ usual low-rent gossip. The story becomes bananas when Skwawkbox starts reading into ‘colleagues’ being in the post instead of ‘Times colleagues’. If it was just ‘Times colleagues’, hunky-dory; as it’s colleagues (and Skwawkbox doesn’t appear to even consider that Guido Fawkes may have meant ‘colleagues at Chorley’s newspaper’ by ‘colleagues’), we have to talk in hushed tones about conspiracy. Skwawkbox highlights that WhatsApp is more secure than email; again, it may just be that WhatsApp is convenient and they’re not thinking about security. They could also use PGP to encrypt their emails.

I want to re-iterate this; Skwawkbox is hanging the entire story on the absence of the world ‘Times’ in an aside on a post on the Guido Fawkes blog.

One possibility is that Lobby journalists are plotting on a secret channel to distort what the public sees so that their overlords can take over the world*. Another is that it’s a bloody WhatsApp group, and they’re using it because everyone uses it and it’s convenient. Their messages might be about taking over the world, or whether you want to go for a beer after work.

Skwawkbox then responds to the MSM response to their original article (helpfully not linking to what those MSM responses were). Scorn was poured on the article because it was a bad article. The second Skwawkbox article bothers me more than the first in no small part because of this line

So the people who were eager to scoff at a brief article with some actual evidence in it were more than happy to promote a story for which there is not only no evidence, but for whose complete fallacy there is ample.

What evidence in the original article? The absence of the word ‘Times’? The suggestion that there must be something nefarious about a group of people who work together using a group messaging system that, in no small part because of concerns after PRISM and so on, offers encryption by default? I don’t know whether the writer of the post has incredibly low standards for evidence or just doesn’t care, but it irks me that people will read this and think that Skwawkbox was making a potentially reasonable point in a reasonable way.

If you wanted to make the argument that the Lobby is too cosy, you’d look at the structure of the Lobby – only certain journalists gain its privileged access – and its function – Lobby journalists have to report without attribution, so may want to make themselves look more important than they are and inflate stories. You would look at stories written by Lobby correspondents to see if there is herding; you might look at how, say, the White House Press Pool works, or compare with other democracies. You might see what Lobby journalists themselves say (I think I heard Laura Kuenssberg talking about it on the Today programme not too long ago). That, though, would have required some time and effort; much easier for Skwawkbox to run a story (if I can paraphrase the Tempest) based on air, based on thin air. Skawkbox’s editorial line is that everything is a conspiracy, and so it must see conspiracy everywhere. As I said of the Canary,

It’s not just stupid, paranoid, yellow journalism; it’s badly-written, stupid, paranoid, yellow journalism

A final thought: lobby journalists have to publish their interests. I wonder if Steve Walker, who runs Skwawkbox, will do the same.

* or are reptiles. I’ve had people on my YouTube channel say I’m a reptilian because the coating on a pair of my glasses would flash green on camera.

I wrote a little while ago about Virgin Trains East Coast’s first class menu*; it bothered me, partly because of its crap use of the English language but mostly because it said it was providing rare breed pork without saying the breed.

I like to think that someone at VTEC took my post to heart when ordering the new menus, as they have improved, but not by much. In the next instalment of my never-ending pettiness, I present to you the new Virgin Trains East Coast menu.

The rare breed sausages are now identified as ‘Yorkshire rare breed sausages’. The Yorkshire pig, also known as the Large White, is not a rare breed. Simply being raised, slaughtered, or butchered in Yorkshire, or any other region, does not count as being a rare breed. I’ll repeat what I said on my earlier post:

Gloucester Old Spot and British Saddleback may both be rare breeds, but they are not the same fucking thing. Pretending that they are the same thing is, frankly, an insult to the farmers who bust their guts looking after rare breeds.

I mention here that I find no mention online of the Laverstoke Farm black pudding that appears in your Great British breakfast. Laverstoke Park Farm is everywhere. If you’re making a point of the provenance of your food, get the provenance right.

The rest of this page (with the exception of the return of ‘Yorkshire rare breed’ bacon in the bacon roll is fine: it is clear, unpretentious, and direct† – until the penultimate word. The penultimate word is ‘tasty’, and it comes in a footnote indicating that the free-range egg in the fried breakfast and the bubble & squeak may, on some services, be replaced by ‘a tasty soufflé’. Is the egg not tasty? Does it not warrant this step on the gustatory cursus honorum? Are the rest of the ingredients on the menu mere shadows, where the soufflé is the very Platonic ideal of a baked egg dish?

You see, an adjective is used to indicate a particular quality of something and to mark it apart from others. If there are six trees in a line and I say that I have my kite stuck in the tall one, it is implicit that the other five trees are less tall. By highlighting – pay attention, Virgin Trains East Coast, because this is important – the tastiness of your soufflé, you are suggesting everything else is less than tasty. I know that’s not what you meant to do; you were veering logorrheic again. You are putting in words because you think it makes your menu funky, or some similar PR bullshit term. There are some descriptions on the menu that tell us about the good without this attempt to be cool with your use of language: ‘chicken in a paprika tomato-based sauce with onions, yellow peppers and spicy chorizo served with parsley potatoes’ makes the Mediterranean chicken sound really quite appetising. I’ll let the ‘rich and creamy’ description of the macaroni cheese pass.

I think the food on VTEC first class is actually pretty good. The mushroom rarebit on the previous breakfast menu was something I actually looked forward to and the current bubble and squeak is surprisingly enjoyable, too.

* If you book in advance, it’s often cheaper or only two or three pounds more expensive to travel first class.
† Before anyone says it, the opposite of me. I know.

This article originally appeared on my medium.com page.

I draw your attention to the disclosure note at the end of this article.

I wrote yesterday about a piece of drivel on the Canary purporting that the pre-arranged results of the US presidential election had accidentally been released by a television station in Tennessee. This morning, one Carlyn Harvey has published an article at the Canary titled “A launch date for the Corbyn coup 2.0 has just been fixed, and guess who’s leading the charge?”.

Harvey’s article isn’t as bad as Gay’s article yesterday, but it is still pretty poor. I do wonder, though, if the line being taken in this article — that there is another coup plot coming to a head against Jeremy Corbyn — is going to be received more favourably than yesterday’s suggestion that the presidential elections were being rigged in favour of Hillary Clinton.

Assume the brace position as we find out whether Marcus Brutus was invited to give the keynote at the Rome First conference in late 45 B.C. Continue reading “No, Canary, a launch date hasn’t been set for Labour Coup 2.0” →

This article originally appeared on my medium.com page.

A recent article on the Canary website has really got my proverbial goat. It’s not just stupid, paranoid, yellow journalism; it’s badly-written, stupid, paranoid, yellow journalism, and it bothers me.
It bothers me, because friends of mine read and share stuff by the Canary.

It bothers me, because people will just see the headline, and it will add to the drip-drip that assumes the elections are rigged.

It bothers me, because people will skim through it, and lines from it will sit in their memory, unquestioned, to be brought out in conversation.

It bothers me, because it’s so clearly bad.

Continue reading “No, Canary, the election results haven’t been leaked” →

Update at https://www.davidlandoncole.com/2017/07/yorkshire-pork-on-virgin-trains/

This post originally appeared on my Tumblr.

“Every day, the New York Times carries a motto in a box on its front page. “All the News That’s Fit to Print,” it says. It’s been saying it for decades, day in and day out. I imagine most readers of the canonical sheet have long ceased to notice this bannered and flaunted symbol of its mental furniture. I myself check every day to make sure that the bright, smug, pompous, idiotic claim is still there. Then I check to make sure that it still irritates me. If I can still exclaim, under my breath, why do they insult me and what do they take me for and what the hell is it supposed to mean unless it’s as obviously complacent and conceited and censorious as it seems to be, then at least I know I still have a pulse. You may wish to choose a more rigorous mental workout but I credit this daily infusion of annoyance with extending my lifespan.”

Christopher Hitchens often remarked on the bothersome masthead of the New York Times. I begin to understand how he felt when I look at the entirely more banal menu on Virgin Trains East Coast.

By way of preface, if you haven’t already been bored to tears, I travel weekly from Huntingdonshire to York. I can book well in advance, so it’s often actually cheaper to travel first class. Hence, I have the free food and drink, and so read the menu. Allow me, gentle reader, to give you a flavour:

Breakfast

Early risers, we salute you!

Start your morning just right, after all it is the most important meal of the day.

Fuck off. Just fuck off. When I am reading this, it’s about half past six in the morning and I have been up for an hour. I want coffee, not your upbeat fuckwittery. However, that is just the introit. I am then invited to order “one of our brilliant breakfast selections”:

Our truly great British breakfast…

I cannot be bothered to finish the entry. No matter how hard you try, the breakfast will have been prepared in a travelling kitchen. You cannot prepare a truly great anything in a galley moving in excess of one hundred miles per hour. This is compounded by the offering of “rare breed pork sausage”. So rare, it would seem, that they don’t know what breed of pig went into it. Gloucester Old Spot and British Saddleback may both be rare breeds, but they are not the same fucking thing. Pretending that they are the same thing is, frankly, an insult to the farmers who bust their guts looking after rare breeds.

I will save you from the porridge – apparently, “wonderfully warming” – and the “heavenly” smoked salmon. Put the thesaurus down.

The next entry that particularly offends me (there have been many minor offences in the meantime) is in the all-day section. I am offered a

“[t]ruly continental platter consisting of prosciutto, salami, Mozzarella, stuffed olives and sundried tomatoes served with mixed leaf salad and a bread roll”.

Not synthetically continental, but truly continental. Presumably, we have sufficient contempt for Virgin Trains East Coast that their mere assertion of continental origin is insufficient; they must assure us that they really fucking mean it. Why is mozzarella capitalised, but not prosciutto? I can see the case for neither or both, but not just one. How much was a Wykehamist paid to produce this codswollop?

I am later offered lemon and rosemary cake, which, I presume on the authority of Virgin Trains, is ‘luscious’, and not just alliterative. The Wensleydale is ‘cracking’, presumably latae sententiate.

While it is a minor thing, I object to this casual abuse of the English language. If it’s a fry-up, say it’s a fry-up. Stop beating the English language to make it sound like something greater, particularly when every-one knows that it’s a fucking fry-up. It’s a lump of cheese and, given its likely treatment and serving, is not wonderful.

It’s worth pointing out that, despite being a prematurely middle-aged wearer of corduroy, I am one of the least fuddy-duddy passengers in this compartment. I am not sure who they think the audience is, but neither the language nor the red and charcoal branding is going to convince anyone that you are anything other than a train company.

What particularly bothers me is that Virgin are in the process of refurbishing their trains. I suspect they have spent a considerable amount of money on changing the covering of the seats that were more than adequate, but they seem to have forgotten to do useful things like put it plug sockets, or handles on the inside of carriage doors, or toilets that reliably flush.

A hearty barley risotto? Get in the fucking sea.

This post originally appeared on my Tumblr.

I’ve been using a Jolla mobile phone since early 2014, not long after it came out. I’m going to be replacing that phone shortly. These are some slightly random thoughts on Jolla and phones in general.

Every phone has its quirks; however, the ones that have developed on my phone have become very annoying. I will end a call, and the network will drop, and I’ll have to restart the phone. The browser frequently closes itself. I will turn on wi-fi tethering, and it will turn on for a moment and then turn itself off. I don’t know whether those are software problems or hardware problems, but they are substantial problems.

The best phone I’ve ever had, for the time it was in, would probably be one of the Nokia Communicators I had. Through most of my undergraduate degree, I had a 9210i. In this, I was (despite having a solid, business-orientated phone) ahead of my peers. People are actually quite happy to carry around large phones, and it’s much more convenient to type lecture and class notes than handwrite them. I did get more than a few odd looks when I opened the phone to reveal a qwerty keyboard and started typing. It was also very solidly built. I then moved to a Nokia E90, the updated version, which was a similarly very useful phone. After several years, I needed to replace it, and went with a very disappointing HTC. I bought it for its qwerty keyboard, but it was too small and too flimsy for me. When the Jolla was being developed, The Other Half was a big selling point; it had the potential for a proper, qwerty keyboard and Jolla was made up of ex-Nokia types. The Other Half wasn’t available yet, but I needed a new phone, and took the plunge.

I also wanted to support people coming from Nokia (as I mention below, a company I had huge fondness for), and to have an alternative to Android and iOS.

What is now known as TOHKBD is sort of available; I considered it, but I didn’t want to buy it through Kickstarter. The person behind the Kickstarter did, it seems, a very good job, but I’d have preferred something OEM and they are, in any case, no longer producing TOHKBD. Relying on your users to develop an ecosystem for The Other Half wasn’t a bad idea, but the pump needed priming. Individuals in their bedrooms were never going to cut it. As it turned out, the only The Other Half options Jolla offered were coloured backs that also gave you a new background. A nice gimmick, but ultimately nothing more than that.

I do really like the gesture-based interface; it is very intuitive, to the extent that I often find myself trying to use Jolla gestures on my Android tablet†. The Jolla team have done a really good job on that. The visual style for the interface is also very appealing. There is a certain cleanness to the whole package that makes Android and iOS feel clumsy even now; when I moved from the Android device I had – a Motorola Razr Maxx, iirc – it felt vastly better.

The battery is a real problem. One of the selling points of the Jolla was that it had a replaceable battery. Apart from one very brief period, there have been no replaceable batteries available. That is really very frustrating indeed. A big reason I’m changing from the Jolla is that the battery life has become very poor; I can unplug it at eight in the morning and, half an hour of internet usage later when I reach university, it will only have sixty per cent of its charge remaining. The last ten per cent runs out in a matter of perhaps half an hour, significantly less than the rest of the battery. I don’t know if it’s a manufacturing problem, something to do with the OS (various updates have improved and worsened battery life), wear and tear, or something else (I was under the impression that the memory effect wasn’t really an issue for for lithium ion batteries). I don’t think that Jolla were acting in bad faith, but it seems that they’re no longer manufacturing the phone, and have set up a separate entity to make handsets. Some acknowledgement that this was a promise left unfulfilled would have been welcome. I mentioned it on the Jolla forums, and received some helpful comments from the community and a ‘this is ridiculous’ from a moderator, which I thought was a bit of a poor show. Apparently, someone had asked the same question some weeks previously.

The design of the handset itself, with the minimal branding and two-layer effect with The Other Half, is still very attractive. I have the Poppy Red cover (as much as anything, so I can find it in my bag!). When it came out, the hardware specification was for a midrange phone; it’s absolutely fine (with the possible exception of the camera). I wonder, though, if it is as robustly built as it might be and whether that has caused some of the problems I mention above.

One of the things I love – really love – about Jolla phone and company is that my handset had almost nothing installed on it when I turned it on for the first time. Phone, browser, messages, tutorial, store, and very little if anything else. There was none of the pernicious, useless bloatware that everyone else seems to go for.* You just installed what you wanted, and didn’t have anything else. That is exactly how it should be done. Jolla also had a range of useful apps on its store, and that number grew. It was never, though, going to match the range available on Google and Apple’s respective stores. Running on Linux, though, meant that Android apps could run on the Jolla. That was a big factor for me; my comment above about wanting an alternative notwithstanding, there’s a lot of great stuff available through Google and Apple. It was very easy, if you wanted, to install the Aptoide app store; it was like installing another programme. It should have been just as easy to install Google Play. I very much doubt that anyone at all will read this, but there seem to be a lot of people in the Jolla community who celebrate the fact that they don’t have to use Google anything. That’s fine; I think it’s great to have that option. There should also be the option to use it if you wanted. It is possible to install Google Play through the command line and I have done so. However, I had to factory reset my phone a while back and, knowing I probably wouldn’t be keeping it, I just couldn’t be bothered, especially as I usually have an Android tablet with me. In theory, you can install things like Google Play Music through Aptoide, but while I can get the programme running, I can’t actually get it to log in.

I do wish Jolla, Sailfish, and Mer well. I might even install the Jolla launcher on a future phone or tablet. For the time being, though, I’m disembarking the little boat‡.

* I very much like my ASUS transformer, but I can’t get rid of some of the preinstalled crap and it bugs me; it is the worst thing about the device.

† While the Jolla tablet looks interesting, I don’t need a new tablet at the moment, would need one with the very good battery life offered by my transformer, and would want one with a keyboard dock. Beyond that, I’d want to wait to see other people’s experiences with it, given my comments above about durability and hardware.

‡ ‘Jolla’ apparently means ‘little boat’ in Finnish.

This post originally appeared on my Tumblr.

Last week, I finished a walk I started two years ago. The story of that walk is on my YouTube channel. I’d had to turn back, because I ran out of water, just above this:

Katholiko monastery dates back as a place of worship to the eleventh century. It was abandoned because of pirate raids.

This photo is taken from opposite where I walked down. I came in through the arch towards the right of the picture. To the right of that is an entrance to a cave that contains a chapel. Moving leftwards, there are a couple of ruined buildings – the one further back has grass, sadly rather brown when I was there, growing on its roof. Then, at the left edge, is a bridge to nowhere, of which more later.

Alice and I were on holiday in Crete again recently and I was able to walk from Gouverneto monastery to the ruined (but not entirely abandoned) Katholiko monastery. This time I wore stouter shoes and took rather more water.

This photo is a reverse shot of the first, taken from before you walk through the arches.

Here is a shot from a different angle; the grass-covered building is in the centre of the image and just to the right are the entrance arches. A little further to the right is the entrance to the cave chapel. The whole place has a Indiana Jones feel to it.

From more or less the same spot, this shows the bridge I mentioned. I don’t really understand why the bridge is as it is; it has rooms of some sort, but it doesn’t go anywhere other than a cliff face on the other side. The construction is pretty solid and must have taken a lot of work to get all the stone down there. There is a riverbed under the bridge, dry when I was there, but the size of the bridge is disproportionate to what water might flow down there. My only guess is that it was built as a platform to allow outdoor services or gatherings, but I may be way, way off.

I hope that it and the next photo give some idea of its geographic location, on the side of quite a steep valley.

These are the stairs down from the path from Gouverneto. I presume that building materials would have had to have been carried down here from there; it took me about half an hour, as I recall. I walked down and then back up; I would not have liked to have carried a building’s worth of stone down.

A shot of the complex from a bit further back.

This link will take you to Google Maps and will hopefully give you a useful view of the lie of the land. It’s in the Google Earth 3D mode, with the path at left and snaking in to the bottom of the monastery.

I was really pleased to make it to Katholiko. I’d like to go back, and go all the way down to the sea, but it’ll have to be at a time other than high summer. I’m not very fit, it was somewhere above thirty degrees celsius, and it was humid. It took me a while to get back up to Gouverneto, and I had to stop three or four times on the way. The further up I went, the easier it became. I think that might have something to do with the humidity, as I was struggling to catch my breath when I took my first stop on the way back up. Going back out of summer would also hopefully mean more greenery around the monastery.

The pictures are all stitched together using the excellent piece of free software, Hugin. There are some more photos from this trip to Crete on this album on my Flickr (and have a look around for more photos in general!)