The Bewilderness

The Essex Way, not the only way is in Essex

The Essex Way is an 81 mile long distance path that winds its way from Epping up to the North Sea Coast. It is a well signposted trail and our group had no difficulty in following the map or the signs. 

Recent rains have left most fields waterlogged and filthy. Yesterday's walk was not for the fainthearted lovers of cleanliness. Where the mud was too thick, we were forced onto the fields themselves: an introduction to Essex's 'London clay'. After trudging in the ruts for 30 seconds, you acquire moonboots; an extra layer of clay on your soles that increases your height and weighs down your feet. There was an element of trudgery about these parts.

The walk took three hours and followed the first part of the Essex Path from Epping to Ongar. Whilst cloudy, it did not begin raining until we finished. The landscape is a mixture of farmland and woodland across flat terrain. Not a walk for views: especially as those that one could detour to (such as the log church at Greensted) tend to be located away from the trail itself.  Still, for an accessible path at the end of the Central Line and a reminder of Essex's greenery, the first section of the Essex Way is a timely reminder. 

The place names include a number of eccentric charms: the odd Fiddlers Hamlet and the amusing Toot Hill. I wonder if cars do.

8.35 miles, 3hours, 241 feet ascent, 390 feet descent.

Patterns in the chords

A Nature article from July used the underpinnings of analysing large datasets to take a look at developments in popular music over the last fifty years. This is certainly a method that brings out some different results to the work of historians of popular culture, musicologists and the claims of actual participants. Without copying the paper, the authors argue that music is a universal and that, like any other body of information, can be broken down into discrete, quantifiable elements, as defined by our understanding of music. This found a number of commonalities that indicated popular music over the last fifty years was based on common foundations.

The paper identified three changes that underpinned changes in styles: pitch palettes becoming narrower, homogeneous timbre palette and a trend towards loudness. There is no explanation given for why this trend has continued without change over the last half century. It is a pattern recognised.

A useful example of how big data can cast a fresh light on these subjects. Can we apply it to jokes and superhero comics. Over the last eighty years, we have seen a trend towards more ridiculous costumes; the trend commenced when a man wore his underpants outside his trousers with a cape. 

Thames Path Zero: from Gravesend to Dartford

The Saxon Shore Way ends at Gravesend and the Thames Path does not properly begin until the Thames Barrier. Nevertheless, a proper path does run from the Dartford Creek Barrier, some two miles west of the Dartford Bridge. But, on Sunday, taking the opportunity of clement weather, I took the more challenging and ugly approach between Gravesend and Dartford. 

Part of this revolves around shorter, urban walks during the winter months; even on the shortest day, you can walk for fifteen miles with an early start. One forgets that it is light at 8, dark at 4. 

The fourteen miles that I undertook is some of the most aesthetically pleasing: a mixture of urban decay, factories, wasteland and sewage farms. All of the route has litter in some shape or form. Half of the world's plastic is strewn across the countryside. Nor is there a distinguishing building, sights, or other marks: unless one considers the approach to and from the Dartford Bridge. Although, nestling between the marshes is Greenhithe, a pleasant enclave of cottages and olde-world charm within the blight.

No doubt my masochism still views this as a fine walk: perhaps better in frost. One does not get the views that are, perhaps, more impressive further west; and, trotting to and from the shoreline via industrial estates, can be frustrating. Better to follow a footpath through a meadow than past Asda. Nevertheless, the Swanscombe Marshes east of Greenhithe (dominated by transmission lines) and the Dartford Marshes provide sufficient greenery. At the end, one follows the twisting River Darent back towards Dartford on the Darent Valley Way. That final part of the walk is a frustrating yet rewarding passage. The path twists far away from the river, then back again, set up on a ridge over the marshes. A direct path along the riverside is impassable. And this meanders almost back to the Dartford Bridge again, giving thoughts of a U-turn. One can see all the way: in flat marshes, you can see where you are going and imagine how long it is before the phone beeps eleven or twelve miles. 

Most fortunate of all, it did not rain until I stepped back on the train to London Bridge. 

James Kelman embraces his Englishness

Our neighbours north of the border are tangling themselves up in knots trying to intellectualise positions that justify writing bad things about the English. Scotland is a colony and England (or Britain) is an Empire. James Kelman is the latest to trump the tartan and declare "I have nothing against the English, but..." Though, Kelman denies we are even a country: just a blind through which the puppet masters manipulate their real colony, Scotland. No doubt the Booker Prize that Kelman (or other non-English writers have won) is just a Machiavellian sense of misdirection.

Kelman argues that English critics just do not recognise the existence of a Scottish tradition, except in the most trite and insulting fashion. Yet, he also gets tired of being typecast as a Scot, or a Glaswegian or a representative of his country.

"Well, it's not supposed to be that at all," says Kelman. "Why would you think that? Why would you think that any Scottish writer has to represent Scottishness? Is Martin Amis supposed to represent Englishness? Or Ian McEwan?

"English writers make that criticism of me but they would never make that criticism of their own. It would never occur to them. When you say that to them they get a glazed look over their faces. They don't know what you're talking about.

James Kelman is moaning about his success as a famous writer from a small country. Moaning about your success is such an English trait that I have to say, Welcome Mr Kelman, you have fully embraced your Englishness! 

Kramer vs Kramer

How will the relationship between Britain and the European Union map out over the next year? We have a shotgun marriage between a panicking minority and a Eurosceptic partner that uses bureaucratic 'reviews' to hide their view. Yet that review, conducted outside media attention and in a light of increasing disillusionment with Europe, hastens the move to disengagement and Brixit.

The article in Euractiv takes note of this review and maps out how this will be undertaken in 2013. The author then betrays their bias. Labour and the Liberal Democrats will use the review to set up an "informed debate" on the EU. You see, if we were reasonable people, who sat down and discussed the issue, we would naturally be grateful that wiser heads than  our own were taking decisions on our behalf. We don't want to be troubled by all of these problems; let the technocrats take the time. Those of us unable to come to this conclusion are probably distracted by prejudice and tradition. We are not to be trusted with such matters. Scepticism of Europe is a sign of eccentricity; the reserve of lunatics and fruitcakes.

The debate is not limited by these parameters. Eurorealism is decided within these democratic concerns about power, checks, balances and integration. Britain is already on the margins, our influence diminished. We are very unlikely to cede further powers; we are very likely to vote for our removal. 

What do we bring to the table? Pain. What would they prefer? Compliance...and their own attempt at integration has a half-life; perhaps it will end well, but most likely it will be a disaster. As the worst ideological experiments always have been.

 

Hail Gloriana

We see a long tradition of places named after monarchs. Often they are states in republics, where the Carolinas and Georgia remain by inertia; historical neutrality trumpeting any politician who was deemed 'historical' by his contemporaries. Would not the USA be improved with a state called Victoria (perhaps renaming Puerto Rico?)

So I welcome Queen Elizabeth Land, a snowbound Antarctic desert, where one final monarch can be named on her Diamond Jubilee for all that we now hold dear: the wonders of scientific knowledge and the breathtaking beauty of a desolate, impenetrable and inhumane landscape. A fitting tribute as the second Elizabethan Age draws to a close!

Equality gained should not equal liberty lost

The Guardian gleefully heads up its article ~ "Tory backlash against same sex marriage"~ with a gobby line-up of rent-a-quotes predicting priests forced by policeman to marry gays and an awful future of polygamy or origami. Espousing the value of 'normal marriage' as a defence becomes them as they maintain the basic premise: that we are only allowed to marry if they license us. Why? What business of an MP is it if I marry one, four or sixteen ladies from TOWIE? Or if Kenneth Williams kept a bathhouse harem? 

But the Labour and Liberal Democrats are no better. At least some Tories are exercised at the abuse of state power brought about by this campaign for equality. That there may not be sufficient defence for freedom of conscience (because most religions remain opposed to gay unions). The other parties view this as an equal right of recognition by the state, as if the state has any business in telling you who you should be with, what you do with a consenting partner and how you should celebrate your relationship. Agreements and mediation are sufficient; not the secretive network of 'family courts' that destroy families and create wards of the state.

Equality under license is not liberty; and if some fears do come to pass then equality gained is liberty lost. A poor trade. 

The drone revolution nobbles Nimrod

There are plenty of blogs that drone about the rise of UAVs and their impact upon defence forces. With straitened budgets and increased capabilities, Philip Hammond's announcement that Nimrods would not be replaced by manned aircraft was unsurprising. This has left a gap in Britain's ability to maintain submarine surveillance around our coasts in the short-term. Critics of the Nimrod programme's cancellation were quick to point this out (though they were quieter about the mishandling of the entire upgrade programme: another Ministry of Disaster special). 

Whilst Hammond clearly acknowledged the gap in capabilities, he anticipated a new generation of drones that would achieve more than NImrod at lower cost and less risk to the crew. No doubt further programmes will be cut as the drone revolution begins to take effect.

How different is Scottish Euroscepticism?

How would Scottish Euroscepticism differ from its national counterpart? Many of the basic arguments and viable alternatives sound the same. Reading George Kerevan writing in The Scotsman on EFTA and NAFTA, I am taken aback as to the parallels between the author and Daniel Hannan. But the article soon breaks down under one glaring omission: and it is the cardinal vice on all commentators who discuss Scotland's future. They try and avoid the bigger country just to the south of them. So there is no attempt to think: what would happen if both the UK and Scotland voted to leave the EU. How do we co-operate?

Even more pessimistic for any future Scotland is the policy mistakes that independence would perpetuate (for a while). Kerevan points out that lack of an entrepreneurial culture and immediately identifies the appropriate policies...not! Cheap credit, export subsidies, picking winners through state aid: no doubt moving on to capital controls, financial repression and import substitution.

Every part of the UK, where together or apart, would be better off out. There is no need to nationalise Euroscepticism; the article only reminds us of the lack of grace within Scottish political discourse. They turn away from the Irish, the Welsh and ourselves at their peril.

How long will Syria remain constrained?

Running out of time tonight, so a quick referral to a Washington Post article on the potential internationalisation of the Syrian civil wars; uprising; rebellion etc.. Add rival powers providing finance and weapons for both sides, the poisonous brew of WMDs and forays from Iranian proxies in Lebanon; we come to the oddest question of all: why jas it remained contained? What has Assad been promised or threatened to maintain such constraints at a time of national strife?