Chester Visit

I was in Chester a couple of weeks ago, on business for reasons that still make me mad to think about them. I took an evening train up and went for a walk along the Shropshire Union canal...

(It's worth clicking on both those for the detail.) The hotel room - in the Kings Suite of the Queen Hotel by Chester station - was pretty good...

though the courtyard is kitsch beyond description...

Lunchtime was at the Old Harker's Arms, on the canalised. It might not look prepossessing...

...but the food is consistently damn good. As this hake was...

As things are going, I won't have many more excuses to visit the place in the future. Kinda shame, as it's a nice time and I keep wanting to use my right to shoot a Welshman who has dared venture near the city walls with a bow and arrow.

Why Can't The BBC Do The Wire?

There was an interesting article about British TV drama in the FT a couple of weeks ago. The starting point was The Wire and why the BBC hasn't done anything like it. The article ended with an attempt to suggest that British TV drama was different-but-equal. Tosh.

What lifted The Wire clean above even The Shield, The West Wing and BtVS, was season four, that heartbreaking series about criminality and evil amongst school-children. These were children murdering and hiding the bodies in derelict houses, pouring lye over the corpses to help with the decomposition. Being children, they poured the lye over the clothes. They didn't quite get it. The series didn't flinch, didn't miss a detail and it didn't moralise once - it told the story. I can't remember a single moment of hope in all twenty-two episodes.

It took David Simon thirteen years of non-stop writing and producing to get there, with one hundred and fifty four episodes of Homicide: Life On The Street between 1993 and 1999, six episodes of The Corner in 2002 and sixty-six episodes of The Wire, before that awesome series four. No other writer in television history has had Simon's opportunities, and he has admitted as much in an interview. It's not that British TV can't do The Wire - no-one else could or did either.

What British TV should be able to do but can't, and Hollywood can and does, is The Shield and follow it with Sons of Anarchy, or BtVS and follow it with Angel. (And don't dare offer Dr Who and Torchwood) Why not? Well, are we looking for reasons or excuses? Lack of money is an excuse - if the British wanted to produce high-quality drama, they would find the money. God knows they find enough for football and celebrity presenters. The "theatrical tradition" is an excuse as well - the Americans only got this good at TV in the early 1990's. Both have had the same time since the invention of television to learn the art. The fact that British culture is run (if it is) by kidults to busy attending inclusiveness and marketing courses is an excuse as well. There are sensible people you can hire if you are prepared to pay. It's not a lack of talent either: the music scene is bursting with it and Hollywood moves and TV are packed with English actors who couldn't get jobs in the UK.

British TV produces not-quite-good-enough (or "flawed" if you're being polite) drama because the British simply are not serious about the job of writing, directing and producing drama. That's not unique to drama: the Special Forces and music aside, the British aren't really that serious about anything. They rely on the fact that the competition are just as... lackadaisical isn't the word, nor is shoddy... easily satisfied is probably it. On the creative side, the British are easily satisfied and on the managerial side they are just plain cheap. Which is why most British writers never do more than two drafts - they aren't being paid enough.

I suspect that most British writers and producers don't even read the books. Hollywood has three standard texts on screenwriting: McKee's Story, Syd Fields' Screenplay and Vogler's Writer's Journey. Everyone has read these, and even if they don't agree with what the authors say, the industry shares a common technical language. Do you know what a "beat" is? Entire British scripts can go by without a single one - and as for story arcs, in British scripts, fuggedaboutit. (One reason I love Local Hero, Dinner Rush and Groove is that they are packed with satisfying character arcs.)

It's more than just a lack of technique. It's as if there's something missing in the soul of many English writers: it feels like they don't really like or understand people. The Big Names who write for theatre admit they are all about the Ideas and the Politics as if that's a good thing. The British can make nasty, mean movies (Eden Lake, Kidulthood) but they can't make something as charming as Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist or Before Sunset. No. You just think they have. But they haven't. And costume dramas are cute, not charming.

The real question isn't why British television couldn't do The West Wing or The Wire. It's why the BBC can't even do Flashpoint or Blood Ties. If I was unlucky enough to be in charge of drama at the BBC, I swear I would cancel the lot and show a test card where Eastenders was supposed to be, until either I or someone else worked out how to tell engaging stories with characters the audience will identify with on the limited budgets at my disposal. And if I couldn't, I'd give the money back to the license-payers.

Gratuitous Trivial Wi-Fi Name Post

My netbook picked up this list of Wi-Fi sources somewhere near Bath. This is a screenshot and utterly for real.

What surprises me is that so many sources can be picked up while you're on a train.

Corporate Development Part 143: Cute Questions Carry The Message

You know those quizzes they do in magazines: cute questions with cute answers? Well, try this one. The questions are real, and I wrote the answers more or less spontaneously.

How aware are you of your emotions?
Very. My feelings are me in the moment. I am one with what I feel

What am I feeling? (Name it in one word?
Everything

Why am I feeling that way?
Because I am connected to the world

How do I view myself?
Through a glass and darkly.

Do I get overwhelmed easily?
No.

Do I panic quickly?
At my age?

Do I tend to assume the worst?
No. It turns out far worse than I could ever have imagined.

How do I view the past / present / future?
I live in the day.

Do I spend time regretting the past?
No.

Do I worry about the future?
No. (I know I'm fucked)

How much time do I focus on the here and now?
All of it.

Do I take time to consider the bigger picture?
Your bigger picture or my bigger picture?

Do I take time to stand in someone else's shoes?
Mine fit just fine, thank you.

These questions were part of that Resilience course. WTF? When I started work, and senior managers were giants who bestrode the earth, anyone who tried to pass this twaddle off as serious training would have been dumped. Or sentenced to life in Records in Swansea.

I was okay. I've done the Steps and achieved enough spiritual progress and equanimity to recognise that when someone asks personal questions like these in a business context I am under no obligation to answer them truthfully. The guy I was working with was not okay. He was a tangle of hard emotions. What is he supposed to do with the feelings a question about regretting the past will raise? I know what it did to me and it would take me days to recover. How dare someone put together a course that sends many of those attending out into the world with stirred and shaken emotions?

Notice how the company's message gets carried even by this exercise? Would you ask me to consider the bigger picture if my views agreed with it? Why would I need to put myself in your shoes, unless you want me to change what I intend? Those questions are intended to remind you that the Corporation has its reasons that you wot not of and do not include you. The hits just keep coming.

Corporate Development Part 142: Resilience

The one-day course I attended in Bristol the other week was about Resilience. Courses like that are either a complete waste of time; a pleasant confirmation that you're on the right track; or a rather harrowing experience. I had the pleasant confirmation bit.

Resilience is the ability to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching or being compressed; or being able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions. It's the psychological analogue of fitness. (Fitness is about how quickly you recover from exertion: it's usually confused with strength and stamina.) Some of the things you need are: good health (the ability to withstand infection and recover from it if you are); a reasonable level of fitness, strength and stamina; a clear conscience and a reasonable amount of justified self-confidence; friends who care for you and a family that is a source of happiness; a job that pays you an adequate sufficiency with a manager who is a decent human being. Absent one of those things and you might get by, but two or more and you're screwed. Poor health, no fitness, self-doubt, shallow friendships, a family that drains you, too little money coming in and an insecure bullying jerk for a boss and you are not going to bounce back from anything. You're going to collect dents.

Which wasn't the way the course dealt with it. Their definition was "the capacity to face, overcome and be strengthened by experiences of adversity". The guy referred to the old Nietzsche saw about "that which does not kill me makes me stronger". Ol' Freddie was posturing when he came up with that one. Adversity, from the serious (your pension getting trashed) to the tragic (your ten year old son dying in a random car accident) to the infuriating (The Bank's bureaucracy) to the Kafka-esque (dealing with the Family Courts), rarely leaves anyone stronger. It leaves them with a few more dents at best and insolvent and barely sane at worst.

But we weren't discussing philosophical psychology. We being handed a message. Which was that The Bank knows that working there is tougher than it should be. It knows its systems are half-assed and frustrating to use. It knows that never in the history of human affairs have so many been employed to stop the so few from actually doing the work. It knows that it pays below the market rate and doesn't keep up with inflation. It knows that its managers abuse the staff appraisal system. And guess what? It ain't gonna change. Not one jot of a thing. So get over it. Here are some suggestions from your hired trainer.

Which turned out to be apple pie and homily. Don't take yourself so seriously. See a silver lining in every cloud. See something funny in the situation. Step back and get some perspective on it. View obstacles as challenges. Be able to learn from mistakes. Refuse to see yourself as a victim. Find some support from other people. Recognise what you can control, what you can influence and what you cannot do anything about.

On this last point, they guy said that he had total control over the meal he had eaten the previous evening, because he had ordered it from a menu. Obviously he's never been served a poor cut of steak, a rubbery omelette or coffee in any hotel in Great Britain. You have control over what you eat when you buy the ingredients yourself from a supplier you trust (as opposed to a supermarket who gets the stuff from God knows where) and cook them yourself. Otherwise you're in the lap of the sous-chef and brigade - if you're lucky - and more probably a barely-trained illegal immigrant on minimum wage.

But as I said, we weren't discussing abstruse philosophical concepts with homely examples. I knew the guy wasn't serious when he repeated a line that's caused me to stare incredulously more than once: "this is a performance organisation". It isn't. It really isn't. If it was organised to allow its people to perform at high levels, why would it need courses on handling the shit? The Bank is a dys-organisation and it does not perform. But more on that later.

Bristol Wednesday Snapshots

I had a quick trip to Bristol to attend a course recently. The course I'll make comments about later, but here are the photos of the little bit of the town I could see between the end of the course and catching the 17:30 back to Paddington. The guys and gals in Bristol are always partying - or at least that's how it seems. The row of buildings in this photograph may once have been warehouses but are now all bars. And it's about a hundred yards from one of The Bank's bigger office buildings. Maybe that's why.

I took an evening train down and stayed in the Thistle Grand Hotel about a hundred yards from the building I needed. On the outside it looked a little tired and dedicated to conventions, but the room was okay.

The tray was a decent if standard cheese-and-crackers that hit the spot as a light supper. But a £5 "Tray Charge"? What's that about?

So this is probably the most popular photograph anyone takes when they are around the harbour area...

While I chanced across this pretty damn good graffiti on the way to Temple Meads. I think it's four different artists, or maybe they're all part of the "Graffiti Bristol Crew".

The Casual Cruelty of Debarahlee

This young lady has a lawyer who figures he can get her a decent payout from Citibank because they told her she shouldn't wear clothes like these she's pictured in. The other female staff weren't given attire guidelines because, she says, "they were short, overweight, and they didn't draw much attention, but since I was five foot six, 125 pounds with a figure, it wasn't appropriate".

I'm not going to comment on the lawsuit. What's interesting is her remark about the other women. It's an accurate description of them: it's an accurate description of most women in offices. But is it me, or is there a casual cruelty about it when it comes from someone so clearly above the Pretty Line?

This is connecting with a thing I'm writing where two of the characters are discussing clothes.

ADAM: What about the guy in the baggy cargo shorts and sandals walking round the supermarket? What's he signifying?

LUCIE: That he has no taste, or he wouldn't be wearing shorts, and no manners, or he wouldn't be wearing sandals around food.

ADAM: So why do people dress like that?

LUCIE: No-one really knows. And fewer people care. Harsh truth? If you're above the Pretty Line, you just will dress becomingly, and if you're below it, nothing you wear will look good. Also, the High Street is full of cheap junk and very few people would take to time to thrift a blazer like you did.

The way I've written it, it's not coming across as a "harsh truth". If it did, I wouldn't have to call it one. Maybe it should be...

ADAM: So why do people dress like that?

LUCIE: You're assuming they could wear something that would make them look good.

ADAM: I didn't know I was, but now you put it that way, there isn't?

LUCIE: Clothes don't make people look better, people make clothes look better. People are born pretty or not. I was. You were. They weren't. Those are the breaks.

ADAM: And somewhere in their heads they know this and stop bothering?

LUCIE: And, to be professional for a moment, High Street shops are full of made-in-Honduras junk with twisted seams. Which is what happens when everyone buys on price.

ADAM: I buy on price.

LUCIE: That blazer might have been cheap, but you spent a long time thrifting for it. You have an eye. You're one of us.

(You have no idea how many different options I tried before that.)