Hazel's Blear-ting for the wrong reasons

QUESTION: What matters most to a politician? Their party? Their politics? Themselves?

Ok, that's a bit harsh - perhaps rather like asking if every GP secretly harbours a hidden intent to do a Harold Shipman.

But Hazel Blears hasn't helped the cause of politicians much this week, has she?

Turning up at a protest against maternity ward closures in her constituency might at first seem the work of an MP who is just keen to raise the profile of a cause evidently close to the hearts of many of her constituents.

Yet look at the cause of the the planned closures - swapping local maternity services for super-regional ones covering larger catchment areas - and it's possible to track the policy right to the very top.

To the ruling Labour Party, in fact, of which Hazel Blears is chairman, or chairwoman, if we're going to be uber-PC and New Labour about it.

Now as chairwoman of the Labour Party, Hazel Blears is responsible for maintaining party order - but I'm not too bothered about that.

After all, she wasn't elected to maintain party rule, she was elected to represent the people in her constituency - a point she made in her defence this week.

But she's also a member of the cabinet, and such closures as the ones she is opposed to, must have been discussed at Cabinet level, probably under as part of 'NHS Reform.'

Perhaps no-one was listening to Patricia Hewitt as she spelt out her plans because maybe the entire Cabinet switches off as quickly as the rest of us when we hear her patronising tones charging through the air.

Perhaps, but I doubt it. So, following that train of though, Ms Blears has let this one go through, along with her colleagues, either not knowing the local implications (which she can't really be expected to, although it's arguable the Department of Health should have known) or not actually asking.

She certainly didn't voice overall concern about it at the time - not in public, at least. She's a paid representative of the people of Salford, and if she's opposing something, she should be doing so in public, not in 'private meetings' to save Party face.

Remember your primary job, Hazel!

So that now leaves us with the question as to why Ms Blears has suddenly appeared on the protest lines, showing the people of Salford that she knows about their concerns?

Could it be, possibly, because three of the Salford constituencies are being merged into two, including hers, and with one of the constituencies already choosing their Labourite for the next campaign - not Hazel - there's every danger that come the next General Election, she'll have no constituents to represent at all?

You'll like this Paul - but not a lot

RATHER like newspapers filling their pages with 'reviews of the year' between Christmas and New Year to fill space, ITV has taken to filling its airtime with 'best of' programmes.

Some have been quite amusing - but not for the reasons intended.

Take 'Best Ever Spitting Image,' last night. Among the great and the good Talking Heads on the programme was Paul Daniels, who was repeatedly mocked on sketches including 'One Man and His Wig.'

He could handle that, could PD, but he discovered the programme's 'dark side' when the sketches included him ripping open wife Debbi Magee's dress and nuzzling into her every week.

He argued that once something loses its credibility, it is no longer worth watching.

And he said it without a trace of irony too.

Because Paul Daniels himself knows there is life after credibility. It's called Celebrity X Factor.

Would you BeeGee-ieve it?

At what point of the year do you think Cherie Blair comes bounding up the stairs, wide eyed and even wider-mouthed, and with a copy of Who's Who, into Tony Blair's office?

Interupting his work on the situation in Iraq, congestion charging, or perhaps most pressingly, his legacy, do they sit down in front of the fire, open said book and start picking who they should tap up for a holiday?

Or do they have access to ITV's back catalogue of "Through the Keyhole," giving them a 15-minute rundown of the glitzy homes owned by the rich and famous. Presumably, they have access to the American series too, because I don't remember ITV forking out to send its crew round Bee Gee star Robin Gibb's home near Miami.

I mean, it's embarrassing, isn't it? The leader of one of the world's most powerful countries - so we're led to believe - touring the globe and shacking up with the rich and famous for a few weeks.

Cliff Richard has opened up his home to them in the past - but a fat lot of good it did him. He wanted Blair and Co to extend length of time an artist gets royalties on songs. It was announced in November that wasn't going to happen. There's gratitude for you! And it's also presumably the reason Cliff's been out recording festive hits again since. Down to the last few dozen million are we?

Silvio Berlusconi, the former Italian prime minister who seems to attract trouble wherever he goes, has also opened up his home to Blair. And now the Bee Gees. Who next? And more importantly, why?

Amusingly, Mrs Robin Gibb seems adamant they were just happy to do it, and hadn't received payment - a claim Number 10 disputes. So either Mr Gibb has told Mrs Gibb porkies, or Downing Street is doing some serious festive spinning.

But doesn't it seem odd that just months after arranging the publication of the Stern report -which suggested unless we improve our environmental behaviour, the world is going to die - Blair has jumped on a plane to America for Christmas?

And just weeks after Gordon Brown came up with a new holiday tax.

What's wrong with a long break in the UK? Tourism needs it in this country, thanks to the strong pound against the dollar - great for us, not so good for those relying on Yanks visiting here - and surely he could at last be accused of leading by example.

After all, and this refence is quite seasonal, surely what's good for the goose is good for the gander?

What's on the box?

Hmm, what to make of the Christmas telly this year.

It's a safe bet it wasn't much cop. It also appears obvious that the main channels appear to have given up the ghost when it comes to pulling big audiences.

The Vicar of Dibley was the most-watched programme on Christmas Day. 11 million viewers.

Ok, so many people now have more channels to go at then they ever thought possible - but that doesn't mean we no longer appreciate quality.

The Vicar of Dibley - it's the last one, we've been assured - is good as far as it goes, but 11 million viewers to top the TV charts is hardly a great effort.

Here's a radical thought for Michael Grade at ITV and the new monitoring board at Beeb. Don't give up. Have another go. Make a real push for new, quality-driven programme next Christmas.

Audiences can still be huge, you just have to make more of an effort. I found myself watching repeats of Friends on E4. That wasn't a snub to the stuff on the main channels, but an act of desperation at what was on the BBC.

And that's desperation even before I'd factored in the countless episodes of Eastenders shown during Christmas Day. Eastenders, by the way, pulled in 10.8million viewers. I hope that figure is for the best-watched episode and not a total one for all them - otherwise that would roughly break down to three people for every single screening.

So here it is, merry CHRISTmas

There's been a lot of gnashing of teeth this year about whether it's time to treat Christmas as an American-style 'happy holidays' type event rather than a Christian one.

In America, the 'holiday season' appears to kick-off with Thanksgiving and runs, certainly in the eyes of the shops, until just after Christmas, so you can see why perhaps Christmas isn't quite the focal point it is here.

But to me, it's simple. Would you expect people to celebrate your birthday without you? What would the point of the party be?

I'm not quite sure who's promoting the Winterval idea - I'm a bit concerned the church trying to clamp down on the vague notion of it might actually give the concept legs - but I don't know anyone of other faiths who'd deny Christians Christmas.

We're a Christian country, so Christmas is pretty much a national festival. And there's no reason other faiths can't join in, without compromising their own beliefs. I've received Christmas cards from Muslims in the past, just as I've sent them cards at Eid. I received one from a Jewish man this year - you see what I mean.

But the great thing about Christianity, in my opinion, is that it's up to you what you make of it. There's no prescribed way of being a Christian. You can just talk to God from home, or do so in church every week.

Yet to start driving Christianity out of Christmas seems to be going to far. If people choose to celebrate without involving the birth of Christ, then they can, but surely it's better for people to opt out rather than people having to opt in to make their Christmas religious.

And I defy anyone to disagree once they've enjoyed a midnight service at Christmas.

Have a good one - and don't forget to invite the big man to the party!

Plane boring

Quick message to anyone who has been stuck by fog at airports:

1) Would you rather take off in fog and risk crashing and dying?

2) Why are you blaming the airports - do they have control of the weather?

3) Why are you complaining that they are making you wait in tents when the alternative would have been to wait in a wet car park without any cover?

and

4) Don't you realise no-one has any sympathy because we all think you are going on holiday for Christmas when we're staying at home?

Grim news from the Brothers grim

It's not often I get wound by things printed in the News of the World, but then I saw this screaming great headline:

Ok I know, it was their Christmas do, so they had a right to let their hair down. And they are footballers, and they aren't known generally for being the brightest brunch (look at the stick Graeme Le Saux took just for reading the Guardian when he was at Blackburn Rovers).

But to have a team of highly paid professionals sat in a pub, singing a song with lyrics along the lines of "Build a bonfire, build a bonfire, put the scousers on the top. Put City in the middle, and we'll burn the f***** lot!" begs some very obvious questions.

Fair enough, it's an age-old terrace chant and I'm sure Liverpool have ones just the same about their friends in Trafford, but that's not where I'm coming from today.

My point is the person who apparently led the chants. Stand forward one Gary Neville, one of half of the ugly duo Neville Brothers who have dominated United's backline for the last decade or so.

Brother Phil is now plying his trade at Everton, but more on him soon (he's used to coming second out of the two - particularly when it comes to England call ups).

He's the one who isn't just content with being a talented footballer, but also has to take the moral high ground in front of the cameras at every opportunity. If it's not telling fans off for turning on a player, it's setting himself up as some sort of spokesman for the England players.

He wants to be whiter-than-white, the voice of the players. Then he pulls a stunt like singing this song. So he might have been drunk, but he's the one who wants everyone to listen to when he's climbing on his pedestal. So he needs to remember he's on that same perch when he's out drinking.

Because for as long as he's wanting people to listen to him, you can be assured someone will be. And this latest incident, along with his kissing of the badge in front of Scousers and once admitting 'I was brought up to hate Scousers' just goes to show he's not worthy of the respect he craves.

And now Phil, down the road at Everton is at it as well - leading the chorous for the players when their star striker Andy Johnson was accused of diving against Chelsea. He said it was an outrage. As if Andy Johnson would do that!

Then, rather amusingly, he went on to say: “Maybe he should have a look at the incident on video, then have a look at himself in the mirror."

I let you do the jokes about what may happen if either Neville looks in the mirror but perhaps they'd be better off doing that - regardless of the results - than opening their mouths, letting anything fall or sing out, and leaving themselves open for ridicule.

Merry Christmas by the way!

Tip for the binman?

So we’re getting to then end of our first evening in New York. The tour guide on the ‘night lights tour’ bus we had been travelling on suddenly piped up and said: "Of course, myself and the driver work in the service industry and your generosity is part of our income."

Hmmm, what did he possibly mean? Well, you’d be pretty damn thick not to have twigged he was on about a tip. For doing his job. Quite well, admittedly, but not in a spectacular fashion.

And as we climbed down off the coach, there was bucket positioned there. He and the driver were stood next to it. To not tip would make me look tight, but surely to tip was to effectively give in to the etiquette bullies? I chose the latter – partly because I was tired and partly because hey, I was in New York and all I handed over was a $1 note.

Anyone who goes to New York – or indeed to America – and has read a guide book before they go knows to expect to tip for everything. Whereas here, we tip as a reward for good service – or don’t tip to prove a point about poor service – in America the guidebooks even tell you the expected percentage of bill that should be added on just for being served.

Thankfully, for much of the time I was in New York – three nights, four days – we tipped because we wanted to. But it’s certainly a lot more brash than before. I last went in 2001. The tour guide didn’t ask for tips – or indeed tell a story which just stopped short of pointing out his kids needed new shoes – and the waitresses didn’t draw smiley faces on the back of receipts next to the bit marked: TIP.

Maybe it’s because I have recently been in New York that I’ve noticed the prevalence of the tip boxes here. When I was doing a paperround (I started at the bottom in journalism!) in 1993, the newsagent used to expect us to send cards out with the papers, but only ones bought from him at 2p each. There was no expectation that you’d get a tip, but those who did perhaps get an unwritten guarantee that more care would be taken putting their Sunday Times through the door.

But I’m sure the Chinese takeaway near me has only just joined the tipping brigade . I perhaps go there four times a year – and given how sick I feel today, I doubt I’ll be back for a while – but the young girl on the counter actually tapped the tip box as she gave me my change.

Unsubtle, maybe, but not quite as bad as the binman. He knocked on the front door on Tuesday – hours after I landed from New York – to hand me a green bin bag. And seeing as he was handing it over, he said he’d kill two birds with one stone and get the Christmas tip at the same time.

I’m sorry? A tip for the binman? Surely not even the cash-happy Yanks wouldn’t hand over money to men who make as much noise as possible 51 weeks of the year, don’t do bank holidays, never put the wheelie bin back and never secure the recycling bags so you end up spending half an evening hunting them down within the confines of your local postcode?

I didn’t give him a tip. Don’t tut. Don’t tell me I’ll never get any favours from them in the future. Because I wasn’t anyway – and do you know what, I’m glad I didn’t. Unlike America, the binman can’t claim to having to make his income up on tips, can they? And if he won’t help me recycle, I can hardly be hit by the council for not doing so, can I?

Time to lay off Blair a bit?

SOMETIMES I feel sorry for Tony Blair. Put aside things like the dodgy dossier, cash for peerages and his style-over-substance rhetoric for just one moment and you'll see why.

Fair enough, he's got a lot wrong - and often doesn't seem to accept the fact - but to accuse him of being guilty of the River Ripper cases seems to be just daft.

Of course, people aren't blaming him for the actual crimes, but the circumstances which led up to the deaths of the five prostitutes.

Why? Apparently, it is because of his government's policy on prostitutes. And who is saying this? The rolling news channels, of course.

To be honest, they aren't actually blaming Labour for the deaths, but once they've done the breathless 15-minutes-with-the-normally-studio-bound-anchor-at-scene-because-it's-such-
a-big-story segment, its back to the one left behind in the studio to hold a debate on what is happening.

Hell, there's another 45 minutes to be filled and holding a debate is much cheaper than finding real news.

And so, less than 24 hours after the last two bodies were discovered in 'sleepy Suffolk' (I assume that is its full title, and maps have only ever given an abbreviation, because that's what everyone has been calling it for two days) we're into the debate about who should take the rap for what went on.

Because simply catching the killer isn't enough. Let the public floggings begin.

It's a trend which has been going on for a while. The last crime news story to warrant the TV stars out of their interactive studios and into the depths of middle England was the tragic double death of Holly and Jessica back in 2002.

The Bichard enquiry came into being after Holly and Jessica's killer, Ian Huntley, was sent down - that's about a year after they died.

But as each major news event comes and goes, the TV channels seem determined to fill more of their non-stop hours with breathless coverage covering all angles as soon as possible, we now have this ridiculous situation.

The prime minister being blamed for the deaths of five women in Ipswich. Because his policy on prostitutes leaves them at risk.

And just what is his policy? By my reckoning, it's the same as everyone previous government. Prostitution is illegal. Those who take part in it are breaking the law.

What's the alternative? To molly-coddle those involved? To create a safe environment? Would those people who condemn Blair's policy then not round on him for another example of the nanny state?

Sometimes, as Prime Minister, can you just not win?

Oh come, all ye faithful shoppers

HOPEFULLY this won’t sound too much a Winterval v Christmas rant (We’ll leave that one to man of the people 2006 winner Jack Straw) but something rather special happened yesterday.

I got a Christmas card. I may be a Billy No Mates at times, but I still do get Christmas cards, and had already received several. But this one was different – and it took me a minute to work out why.

Then it dawned on me. It was vaguely religious. It depicted the stable in which Jesus was born. Ten Christmas cards in for 2006 and it was the first one which reminded the person receiving it that it was actually a religious festival.

Are so many people really just ignoring the real meaning of Christmas and intentionally plumping for ones of penguins and polar bears? Even Santa, that commercially-created icon of the 20th century, appears to be being pushed out at the moment.

The card also reminded me that it was time for me to buy some cards (having resisted the buy two, get one free deals that were on last month on the grounds it was only November).

And the answer to the question I posed in the paragraph above the last one soon unveiled itself once I was inside Tesco. Despite being large enough to stock a dozen types of TV, at least 10 versions of a Chicken sandwich and enough pairs of shoes to keep a certain famed south American leader’s wife happy for years, it didn’t have a single religious card.

Or indeed, religious wrapping. The nearest I got to Father Christmas was wrapping with the word Jingle on it. Modern chic or what? So I asked the Tesco assistant, whose attitude suggested he had only recently worked for Asda (I assume that’s where they learn that ‘don’t look at the customer, and sneer at them when they speak’ look anyway). His response: That’s all we’ve got.

Now, getting four words out of him was an achievement. But hardly conclusive in terms of getting my answer. So let’s just assume that’s all they stock.

I don’t really mind how people celebrate Christmas. For me, it’ll be midnight mass on Christmas Eve, open presents in the morning, work in the afternoon (that’s the really festive bit when me and someone else sit around the newsdesk eating turkey sandwiches for three hours hoping a news story will break to help fill five live news pages for the Boxing Day edition of the paper which we know all the readers will appreciate) and then back home.

But surely in this country, it shouldn’t be too much to expect the UK’s largest retailer (£1 in every 8 etc) to stock Christmas cards with something relating to baby Jesus? I know it’s a petty thing to get wound up about, but as they say it Tesco, every little helps. And when it comes to commercialism, it’s one thing to cash in on the birth of Christ, another to sideline him altogether…

Time for Us to mind their Ps and Qs

I got back from New York yesterday. It’s the third time I’ve been to the States, and the second time to New York.

Sadly, I’ve never a) been asked if I know the Queen, b) told what a wonderful man Tony Blair is for sticking by the US or c) offered the chance to supersize my order.

But what I have learnt is this: While the UK in many ways is keen to ape the America – the checkout girl at my local Asda told me to have a nice day the other day – it seems the Yanks are keen to copy us.

Hell, they can’t have a royal family, so they’ll just keep re-electing members of the same family (Jeb Bush for 2012 anyone?). We used to be the world’s superpower. It took us centuries to build up that sort of influence – the Americans have done it in little more than two.

And now they’re chasing after one of our last quintessentially English traits: queuing.

No longer the preserve of the English, the Americans are making a sport of it. For example, how many queues do you think it takes to go up the London Eye? One.

How many queues to get up the Empire State Building? Five: One to get in the building, one to go through security, one to queue for a ticket, one to go up in the first lift and then another to go up in a second lift. Quite why there are two lifts, I don’t know – you’re hardly going to pay to go up to the 80th floor and then bail out of the next six, are you?

Then, at New York JFK airport – how many queues to get from entrance to plane? Three at a push at Manchester: One to check-in, one through security and then one to get on the plane. JFK? SEVEN. One to get in the building, one to check-in, another to drop off your bags, another for the first check-in, then for the second check-in, then in the incredibly small duty free shop, another to get through the departure gate and then, for good measure, one last one to pick up your duty free goods which they insist on delivering to the gate.

And after all that, do you know what: the woman welcoming us on the plane managed to say ‘have a nice day’ without even a trace of irony.

Trains are out of steam

IF, as a newspaper editor (which I'm not), I was told that 80per cent of readers liked my paper, my reaction would be: Well how come the other 20per cent don't.

After all, if they don't like my paper, why are they still reading it? Perhaps it's because it's the only paper left at the shops when they get there, or maybe it's because it's the only newspaper the shop stocks.

So I think that if I was running Britain's railways, and a survey came back which said that four out of five people travelling were 'satisfied' with the experience they got, I'd like to think I'd set about finding why the other one in five didn't.

But I'm obviously wrong, because when greeted with this statistic, them what run the railways decided what it meant was: "Let's stick up rail fares!"

Because that's exactly what the Association of Train Operating Companies (ie those who wish to make a profit on the railways) are doing. And not just by inflation either.

What else to expect from the organisation who felt that the National Rail Enquiries phoneline would be more customer-friendly operated from India than Tyneside. No racism intended here, just fact: I don't know how to spell any train station names in India, so it's fair to expect Indians won't know how to spell 'Morpeth' or 'Euxton Balshaw Lane' without having to spelt out.

But back to ATOC. Their director general George Muir said: "While no-one likes to pay more for their travel, we need the revenue to pay for the ongoing improvements to the railways that passengers expect - and overall satisfaction levels are now at an all time high of 80%."

So, randomly, it is now cheaper to fly return to Prague from Manchester than it is to travel by train to London. Mad, isn't it?

What the 80% stat doesn't reveal is a) how they got to the figure, b) whether it is 80per cent of passenger journeys and c) why they think it is a figure to be proud of.

If I am a passenger on one of the new Virgin trains, and my train runs on time most of the time, I probably am happy. Especially because I know my train, if running late, will make the slower, localised services wait at stations so I can overtake to make up time.

But if I travel five times a week, does that mean I am unsatisfied at least once a week?

And what does it mean to be satisfied by a train journey? Am I satisfied just to get from a to b close to on time or do I expect some level of comfort? If that's in the North West, I'm out of luck.

Across the North of England, there are to be no new trains. Just the rattling old ones which leak when it rains. I'm not joking. And if you catch one late at night, you share the train with a day's worth of rubbish. On a Virgin train, they are cleaned at the start of each journey. Not so on Northern.

Many of the trains Northern uses date back to before privatisation. Where's the investment there? And there's none to come in the future. Ultimately, we still pay for the railways - through the massive subsidies the Government gives the franchise firms.

Imagine going into a hospital, paid for by your taxes, and being told: we're charging you for this service because four out of five people rate us. You'd wonder where your money had gone, wouldn't you?

If the Government is determined to get us on public transport, lets go for something bold. Free trains. First class costs extra. Like hospitals.

Going down the canal

It's just a thought, but aren't so-called 'direct action' events supposed to actually cause hardship to someone else in an attempt to make something change?

When teachers go on strike, it's the kids who suffer until the Government/LEA/headteacher backs down and gives in.

When lorry drivers blockade fuel depots, isn't it meant to affect people other than the drivers themselves?

When one million walked through London against the war in Iraq, wasn't it meant to shame the Government into realising that a lot of people didn't support the hunt for pretend weapons?

When Passport Agency workers work to rule (ha - done that one before, and we didn't notice the difference). But you get my drift.

So which bright spark dreamt up the narrow boat blockades of canals up and down the land today in protest at cuts to the budget of British Waterways?

Don't get me wrong, I love canals, particularly the Leeds-Liverpool. And I love the fact Birmingham has more canals than Venice.

But who exactly is going to suffer when the narrowboaters blockade the canals. After all, who else uses the water other than them? Up next: Fishermen protesting at the cuts by staging sit ins next to the water?

Talking balls

IT'S the little things that annoy me. Like the fact Shayne Ward has an autobiography out.

I can just about handle the fact that Charlotte Church has published one - after all, she was a child star. It just about gets through why Jordan/Kate Price has now published two - she basically set out to live her life for the second book as soon as the first one topped the charts.

But Shayne Ward? In the words of Ricky Gervais's funny character in Extras: "Are you having a laugh?"

Do you actually remember Shayne? I do, just. He's the shaven-haired chappie who won X-Factor last year, turned on Manchester's Christmas lights, got a festive number one and subsequently dropped of the face of the planet.

If you do remember him, here's another question to illustrate the point I'm trying to make (and this one isn't open to anyone in Shayne's fan club): Can you remember how any of his songs went?

On second thoughts, I'd best exclude South Africans from taking part in that second question, because according to Louis Walsh (appearing on Graham Norton's wickedly funny programme last week) 'Shayne's big in South Africa at the moment.'

It's not a year since Shayne won X-Factor - in fact, his successor winner (bound to be those MacDonald Brothers as Scotland rallies round and votes for it's musical Braveheart in the face of Simon Cowell's Longshanks assault from the judges' table.

Yet Shayne has written a whole book about what has happened since then. And because not a lot has - interesting to him, I'm sure - he's even charted his childhood.

Summed up like this: "His autobiography also reveals what life was like growing up as the youngest son in a large family in Clayton."

Are you going to want to read it? Am I? No more than I'd take advice on testicular cancer from him.

But then again, I've already had that, thanks to ITV2's incredibly bizarre 'Me and my Balls' talking heads programme, where Shayne - along with every other I'm-a-celebrity-future-contestant - talked openly about their privates in the mistaken belief they were raising awareness about testicular cancer.

Shayne's advice, by the way, was to tell all men they should regularly check for lumps. Because he's the man we all look up to, isn't he? Shayne Ward, the only man with a more effeminate voice than David Beckham, a voice so girly it makes you wonder whether he has any at all!

And I'll wager you this - that won't be in the book.

Bobbins!

I've never understood why grown men adore Lord Of The Rings. Maybe it's some regressional thing, reminding them of their first 'big book.'

And never in all my life have I heard such bobbins spouted about a film - or three films, in this case.

I sat through the first one at the cinema, but rain-checked on the second and third ones, figuring that perhaps one day I'd catch them on TV.

And when they duely appeared on my Sky viewer schedule on Channel Four over the last two Sundays, I stayed well clear.

But I did see the end of the third one. The bit where the ginger one arrives back at his house with-the-door-the-looks-like-the-end-of-a-sewer-pipe, and hugs his wife and says the Middle Earth equivilent of 'Hi honey, I'm home.'

And that was it. It all turned out well. What a relief.

But only then did I read about the rift between Peter Jackson - the director who brought Tolkein's 'masterpiece' to our screens - and New Line, the company which made the films.

Apparently, he'd been expecting to make The Hobbit and another, yet-to-be-concocted prequel to the Rings trilogy (here's a mad crazy thought for Hollywood: Trying making a series of films in the right order! If it's not Star Wars Part I coming after III, IV and V, it's the new James Bond telling the story of how he got to the point where the other films could happen).

But now he's been told he's no longer needed. They're getting someone else. Perhaps they want someone to give it a darker edge. It worked with Batman.

Or maybe it's more to do with the fact that Jackson, who made £200m out of directing the three films, was threatening legal action because he didn't think he had a large enough cut. Well, £200m doesn't stretch far these days. And, after all, Frodo Baggins fought tooth and nail to get the ring back, so it's almost natural Jackson hunts his treasure.

New Line turned round and apparently said 'Drop the lawsuit, and we'll give you the last two films.'

Jackson has said no, because: "Deciding to make a movie should come from the heart and not be a matter of business convience."

Which kind of makes you wonder why he was so worried about getting that third £100million, doesn't it.

As for me, I'll wait for these two prequels (apparently New Line will have to pay more to go back to New Zeland to film it if they don't use Kiwi Jackson) to turn up on the telly. And then I'll just hope a repeat of Hollyoaks is on elsewhere.

Hobbit? Bobbins

Moaning about the moaners

BBC Breakfast was on the box in my bedroom on Thursday morning, and guesswhat they were talking about? The new series of Planet Earth, the BBC documentary series which is simply stunning in terms of the images it hascome up with.

OK, so it's not the most heavyweight of subjects for the BBC to be chewing over, but this certainly wasn't some annoying plug for a programme which happens to be on the same channel.

No, the producer of the programme was on to answer criticism about the programme. Specifically about one bit where one of the two-man crew which had spent eight months in Antartica filming penguins, actually helping one out.

In a nutshell, one baby penguin had fallen into a hole in the ice. Itcouldn't get out and its mother couldn't get it. So this camerawoman got out a knife, cut through the ice and the baby penguin escaped.

Back to its mum,who had sat by placidly as the camerwoman had done her work. There were cheers in our house when we saw that. But it appears some people- presumably sad, lonely people who like to make the lives of others as misearble as their own - decided to complain.

On what grounds? The general thrust appeared to be that they should have let nature take its course - ie letting the penguin chick perish. I know the argument about birds goes that you should never interfere with a chick because its mother will disown it, but that obviously wasn't the case here.

Then there's the one about not interfering with wildlife because it will lose its fear of humans - and that obviously can be bad news because it can make them easy prey. Highly unlikely, in the Antartic, wouldn't you say?

And as for not interfering with nature - you try living in the frozen wilds for eight months without building up some sort of relationship with a colony of birds who have watched you with bemused interest.

It was interesting to see there weren't any complaints about the crew at the Artic using a gun to scare off a polar bear who had become very interested in the crew's lodgings.

Presumably the survival of the fittest argument wouldmean a giant bear should have eaten them alive. I think not. But there's no reckoning with TV complainers. I get the feeling that, for many of them, Points of View is the reason they keep going.

It's true, theprogramme's still on - tucked away on Sunday afternoons (no doubt a source of complaint too).

It has its own website too. Within minutes of Friday's Have I Got NewsFor You, while perhaps the rest of us went for a beer or flicked channels, our TV complainers were on there discussing whether it was a vintage episode or not. Another thread complains about a voice used in a documentary being 'insulting.'

And not surprisngly, when asked about what people thought ofthe new Points of View messageboard, the first reply the BBC got was: Rubbish. What else did they expect from the sort of people who complained intheir droves about Jonathon Ross's quizzing of David Cameron on Wossie's late-night chat show?

If you remember, he asked if you used to 'pleasure' himself over pictures of Margaret Thatcher. Cameron dodged the question - presumably there's a focusgroup working on the policy behind the idea now - but 250 complained.

Why? Because it offended them! Surely the easily offended know not to watch Jonathon Ross? His act is hardly new! He's made millions with the same act, and it was shown at 11.30pm! So the complaints pored into Ofcom, which decided the BBC had done nothing wrong - and pointed out Margaret Thatcher hadn't complained about it. Why not? Perhaps because, even in her limiting state, she knows better than to watch programmes which she knows she wouldn't enjoy.

Say what you like about her, but she's obviously still got more of a life than the offence-hunters who probe around the channels looking for things to be affronted about. Now if anyone ever comes across one of them in need of help, just remind them about survival of the fittest.

Playing a dangerous word game

SOMEHOW, the British justice system today managed to hand the British National Party good publicity on a plate.

Why? Because Nick Griffin today was found not guilty of inciting racial hatred at a retrial in Leeds.

Earlier in the week, his barrister had argued that he hadn't incited racial hatred because Muslims - the subject of what I consider to be a vile speech made in Yorkshire and filmed covertly by the BBC - are not a race. And there is no crime of inciting religious hatred.

To quote the BBC's website: "During the trial, the jury heard extracts from a speech Mr Griffin made in the Reservoir Tavern in Keighley, on 19 January 2004, in which he described Islam as a "wicked, vicious faith" and said Muslims were turning Britain into a "multi-racial hell hole".
At the same event, Mr Collett addressed the audience by saying: "Let's show these ethnics the door in 2004."

In my mind, had there been such a crime of inciting religious hatred, then the Crown Prosecution Service would have been home and dry. But for now, we will have to tolerate Mr Griffin and co carping on about a victory for silent public, the ordinary man in the street etc, etc.

Gordon Brown has already intimated such a law should come in. It doesn't need a lengthy government review, it just needs action now.

But why can Griffin do this in the first place? Because he's in Britain, where we have free speech and a democracy. I'm all for anyone who wants to standing for election. If they want to believe they will actually make real progress rather than justing winning odd seats with clusters of protest votes in areas which the mainstream parties often appear to have abandoned, then so be it. Who are we to stop them getting a metaphorical bloody nose at the elections?

It was rather amusing to hear Nick Griffin talk about Tony Blair 'never being able to take our freedom' because a) Griffin looks nothing like Mel Gibson in Braveheart and b) Tony Blair has never tried to do that.

Much as you or I may oppose what we did in Iraq, the PM has never avoided a talk about the issue when confronted.

Ask the BNP a serious question such as 'Are you racist' or 'why didn't you win' and from the organisers of the party you are likely to get a round-the-houses argument which never attempts to answer the question but tends to end up with a phrase like 'When we're in power, you journalists will know about it.'

And that's the truth. On the ground, many of their activists are pleasent chaps and lasses. Many more aren't, but those that are appear not to be reading the same literature we read from the BNP. And that's where the truth can get muddled.

The BNP is a big fan of the word 'truth.' Here's it's take on why the BBC went undercover to expose the party:

The publicly funded broadcaster was, at the time, colluding with Tony Blair’s close colleagues in the Labour Party hierarchy and a criminal outfit called Searchlight which was co-founded by a convicted but now deceased, and unlamented, homosexual predatory paedophile.These are the kind of people; liars, crooks, war-mongers and close intimates of vile perverts who exist on one side of the fault lines of the British political scene. On the other side stand the heroic men and women who are prepared to stop the moral rot, end the inevitable slide into an EU controlled totalitarian police state and who will do their utmost to prevent this green and pleasant Christian land becoming an Islamic State.

Now ask yourself why the BBC felt the need to go undercover. Having worked in several areas where the BNP has made attempts - mainly unsuccessful - to get into elected office, I know the answer. They won't let you in to hear what they what they are saying because what they are saying is much more extreme than the leaflets they put out.

As for the BBC colluding with Searchlight? And where do vile perverts fit into this? The BNP is a secret world where, from the outside, answers are hard to come by, and playing with words has become an art form.

The leaflets they put out, by the way, seek to blame all of the nation's problems on one section of society. It used to be illegal immigrants, not it's Muslims. Not so long ago, someone else had a similar idea of scapegoating to get into power. We now have an international Holocaust Day to mark the terrible crimes which followed once that man, a certain Adolf Hitler, got into power.

It may sound extreme to compare the two - but that is what they are. Extreme, with little notion of what the truth is. And that's why we all have a duty to do all we can to stop them getting in.

I personally believe their successes at the polls will remain at a local level. Constituencies up and down the country are too diverse, and in the main voters too intelligent, to fall for the BNP spin and fingerpointing. A one-off local issue (their 2001 success in a council by-election in Blackburn was based on the possiblity a derelict OAP home could be turned into flats for asylum seekers. It never happened) won't win a general election.

But we need to make sure it doesn't happen.

How do we do that? Simple. We vote. And when we do, we make sure our 'x' isn't next to the BNP candidate. Mr Griffin and co won't be smiling then. Not matter what words he chooses to use.

I told you I was sick

My Grandma died last week. She was 85. No doubt about it, she's had a good innings. She was fit and well (though she wouldn't admit it) until the end - and passed away peacefully.

But what an absolute eye-opener the week since has been - not least of all discovering about the incredible industry which has built up around death.

I doubt there is a reporter - or at least a reporter with more than a couple of years experience under their belt - who hasn't either written about or come across a family who've been told they they have to alter a funeral service/grave because it doesn't fit with regulations.

Sometimes it is simply having a picture on the headstone and understandably it causes uproar. The one I remember most is the mother who was in tears because the local council had asked her to remove the singing Santa from her dead daughter's gravestone. She couldn't understand why people had complained about a motion-activated Father Christmas singing 'Jingle Bells' going off every time they passed to go to their memorial of choice.

And, at the time, I couldn't understand why she had put it on there in the first place. Just like I couldn't understand why people in Newcastle are now having special black-and-white-striped headstones in the shapes of football shirts being placed on the graves of Newcastle United fans. Surely they'd suffered enough during their lives?

Then there's the incredible floral tributes you see at funerals now. One funeral I went to - for work - was to mark the passing of a two-year-old killed by his childminder. I was a bit taken aback at first to see a floral 'Henry Hoover' next to the coffin, but all became clear in church. It had been the thing he liked playing with most, his mum's hoover.

I remember leaving the church thinking what a thoughtful touch that was, obviously thought up by the family and made as a special request. As opposed to the two-foot high 'GRANDMA' 'DAD' ''UNCLE" or (if the florist is really lucky) "STEP MOTHER IN LAW" that appear to be bought for many funerals these days.

Go into florists and say its a funeral and its only a matter of time before they're suggesting a generic 'empty chair' or 'pearly gates' to show how much you cared.

My question is this: When did a funeral become the chance to show you cared more about someone than the next mourner by spending the most on the tribute?

My answer is this: When florists realised there was as much money to be made from dying as there is from getting married - in fact more, because we all HAVE to die. Marriage is merely voluntary pain.

And it's not just florists. How many times have you seen horse-drawn carriages taking coffins to church? I know parts of Lancashire are backward, but not so much so that they haven't heard of a motor-powered hearse.

Then you get to the upkeep of the grave. My Nan and Grandad have a simply memorial stone near to the crematorium where they moved on to the next world. I put flowers in it when I visit, as do the rest of my family. The graveyard section, at times, looks like something Willy Wonka could have created - bright colours, strange objects, interesting sounds. And where exactly do people by those glittery windmills from which are normally on sale at the seaside.

This particular cemetery is near Birmingham - about as landlocked as you can get. But guess what, the florist has them in stock!

I don't mean to pick on florists - there are others out there at it too. Getting people at their most vulnerable, making people feel not splashing out shows a lack of respect.

And while I don't doubt that a lot of people get fleeced into having the best wedding ever, can we really be proud of a country which encourages us to keep up with the Joneses when dispatching of a loved one?

You can't take it with you, after all.


NEXT: Who complains about TV?

Motorway Blues

I've been away this last week - hence the lack of postings - so I've spent more time on the road than on the train.

When I say road, what I actually mean is the M6, and as a result of my continual trips up and down what is apparently the dullest road in Britain (according to a survey carried out by Cornhill Insurance), I have 10 questions:

1.Do we really need motorway matrix signs to announce things like: 'Spray on Road, slow down' or 'Don't drive tired, take a break.' Surely they should be obvious. If it's not, you shouldn't be on the road.

2. Why does it seem to take people by surprise that they have to pay when they get to the barrier on the M6 toll road?

3. Why do I ALWAYS end up in the slowest lane of three when I'm in a motorway traffic jam?

4. Why do motorway service stations now seem to think that we might want to buy go-karts, tents, weather stations and new clothes when popping in for a bag of crisps and a bottle of pop?

5. Where have all the free cash machines gone from motorway service stations?

6. Is there a driving instructor somewhere who teaches people it's ok to cruise down the middle lane once it's dark?

7. Has the motorway matrix ever read: "M6 Js 6-9 clear, M6 TOLL congested' instead of the other way round (which is always a tad convieniant?!?)

8. Why do traffic and travel readers never a) mention the traffic jam you're in or b) always forget to mention the 12-mile tailback 15 minutes in front of where you are?

9. Do drivers of a) Range Rovers, b) cheap-end BMWs, c) Jaguars of all sizes and d) chavved-up Corsas with blue lights underneath, have special powers to stop them from crashing enabling them to travel at 100mph safely when it's raining?

10. What's the point of carrying out a survey of the dullest roads in the UK? Does it make YOU want to buy insurance from Cornhill. To nick the phrase from a rival insurance company's dog mascot and tweek it a bit: Oh Noooo!

Mad as a Donna

If in doubt, blame the media. I dare say Heather Mills-Macca will when her time in court comes, but in the meantime, it's been left to Madonna to make use of the world's most pitiful excuse.

You see, as any new adoptive mum would within days of welcoming the latest addition to the family home, Madonna jumped on a plane from her London home and jetted to America to open her heart on TV about the weighty issue of foreign adoption.

And who did she have this high-brow discussion with? Oprah bloody Winfrey. And we thought Tony Blair was getting good at avoiding grillings by swapping Radio 4's Today programme for 'You Say, We Pay' on Richard and Judy.

Her main bug appears to be that the media have shown a massive interest in her adopting a young lad from Malawi. And she claims the media have done all the orphans in Africa a great dis-service with their reporting on the issue.

How so Madge? Because it's pointed out that you don't appear to have jumped through the same hoops as anyone else seeking to adopt from the country? Surely pointing out such loopholes exist can only serve to protect orphans in Africa from rich people whose motives are much more sinister than yours.

Or is it because they've got to little David's dad? Hmmm, an orphan with a Dad, that doesn't quite ring true, does it? If the Dad is to be believed, David was in an orphanage just until he got money together to look after him. Madonna doesn't buy into this version of events.

But what of Madonna's motives. She's a woman of unimaginable wealth, and much of that imaginable wealth will now be spent on one child. I can't help but think that she'd have been much better off acting as a silent donor, spending whatever money she's going to spend on David on the poor as a whole. I'm pretty sure Bono or Bob Geldof could have helped her.

It's great that she wants to give a little stranger the best possible start in life. But don't go blaming the media when they start asking questions - it's been there often enough when you've needed it.

Passport to hell

IT'S the strangest things which amuse me when I'm listening to the news on the radio - often the strangest people they dig up for vox pops.

Yesterday, 2,500 people from the Passport Agency went out on strike. On Monday, they go back to work and they've threatened that they will begin to 'work to rule.'

And we're supposed to notice the difference when? Have you ever been to a passport office and not ended up baffled by the rules which the workers there stick to like glue. Like the train staff I was telling you about, if you complain and they don't want to help, they sit back with a smug smile which says 'listen pal, you need me, or else you ain't going anywhere.'

Their strike is being described as 'being over pay' which is a bit misleading. It's not. It's about the fact a pay offer hasn't yet been tabled. It's not even as if a rise has been put on the table and they've rejected it.

Why is this happening? Is it, by chance, because the public sector is pretty much the only place where the unions can still flex what little muscle they have left? If that's the case, let's get privatising things like passports double-quick.

The PCS union boss Mark Serwotka said: "At the same time as the cost of a passport has risen by 50% many staff members have seen their pay rise below the cost of inflation at a rate of just 1%."

But you've had a pay rise, chaps, at a time when, given the way it's become nigh-on impossible to get a passport easily, most private companies would repay such a performance with a P45.

If they were walking out calling for more cash to get better staff to improve the service - perhaps there would be some support. But they're not.

Mr Serwotka's lot went on to boast that their action on Friday delayed the processing of 30,000 passports with 'most interviews' cancelled.

Well done. Tens of thousands of holidays potentially wrecked there. Hundreds, perhaps, of people who need to get overseas ASAP delayed. And they're proud of that fact. Proud of the fact that they're messing with people's lives because 'management haven't made a pay offer a priority.'

And what is they're priority. Well, the bosses say it's improving the service. For once, I think, the public will be on the side of management, and not the annoying dress-down, smoke-break-never-shorter-than-15-minutes, out-bang-on-time, can-i-have-an-ergonomic-assessment-of-my-desk-brigade. Don't expect too many honking horns in support, chaps.

A sorry state of affairs

The website YouTube is right up there with ebay for journalists looking for a story on a quiet news day.

Anyone who's been in the job for any length of time will have written a Shock! Horror! Look what is being sold on ebay story.

And in two years time, any reporter worth his or her salt will be able to recount their first YouTube story - be it kids performing Jackass-style pranks of Government ministers spouting forth about the perils of on-line video in Parliament.

Half of Fleet Street will have notched up their first YouTube story this week with the story about Labour MPs Sion Simon and Tom Watson uploading a mock up of the ridiculously stupid Webcameron video the Tories seem to believe will help win them votes in the future.

Having only been able to sit through the opening moments of the first Webcameron - up to the point where the crying tot appears off-screen only for drippy daddy to break off from adressing the world to ask the kid to return later - I thought the mickey-take had a lot going for it.

It was witty, amusing, and almost totally off message - even for Labour.

But the Tories found offence at the fact that Simon, who dressed up as Cameron, offered up Cameron's wife Samantha for sex.

And here was me thinking the Tories would sell their Grandmothers if they thought it would win them an election.

It's not as if the Tories have a totally blemish-free record when it comes to sex and politics merging.

But how sad it was that Watson subsequently felt the need to apologise. For what? For causing a laugh? For showing up what webcameron really is? No, for offending the Tories. This is an apology to the Tory Party which, in lieu of any acutal policies (another 12 months, folks), resorts to character assassinations of Labour ministers on a daily basis.

Do they all demand apologies? Well perhaps they should.

And perhaps Cameron could start by offering an apology for wasting around a third of Prime Minister's Question Time - the only 30 minutes in the week when the PM is at the mercy of the Commons - on facile questions about whether the PM will give support to Gordon Brown.

But then again, what else can he do? He can hardly debate policy, can he?

Word of advice from someone who's never spent much time inside the Westminister bubble: The Labour leadership contest has got chuff all to do with you. Tell your lot to stop getting their knickers in a twist over political jokes and get them drawing up policies so people can actually judge you on your beliefs rather than the latest spin trick from your backroom boys.

A lesson from the Amish

I'm rather embarrassed to admit this, but until last week I'd never heard of the Amish branch of Christianity.

At first, it all seemed rather odd, didn't it? Whole communities living as though the 20th century pretty much hadn't happened. Living life the old-fashioned way, shunning modern advances in technology and even insisting they didn't need the police.

You'd imagine that for such communities to exist, they'd have to denounce everything outside as evil, and lock themselves away from the rest of America.

But that's not the case. And their faith appears to be stronger than ever before. On Monday, for example, the newspapers were full of the story of how members of the Amish community actually turned up for the funeral of the man, Charles Roberts, who killed five school girls in such horrific circumstances.

They turned up because they wanted to show they had forgiven him for what he had done. Their faith said that was what was expected of them, and that's what they had gone to do.

To my mind, no-one will ever come close to understanding why what happened did, or the feeling that community in Nickel Mines must be experiencing. I'm also pretty certain few will ever be able to show such strength in faith.

But what also intrigues me is how such communities can continue to exist in such harmony with neighbouring communities which have embraced 21st century life. Rather sadly for me, the answer to this didn't come from research on the internet, or a trip to the library, but from a five-minute interview I watched on This Morning.

According to the academic they interviewed, as Amish children grow up, they are allowed a year or so to 'let it all out of their system.' By that, the academic said, the teenagers can go out and do the things they don't do within their own community. They can drink alcohol, drive cars, use mobile phones, watch telly - and then return home at night.

They experience the excesses of 2006 USA yet still come home to what some would perhaps describe as a rather primitive community. But the fact they come back shows how strong that community is.

Imagine if divided communities in, say, Jack Straw's Blackburn, tried that out. Say, for example, Muslim youngsters were allowed to try Western things which perhaps their community frowns upon. Loosen some of the rules on clothing, prayers, Ramadan, etc. It's probably not what the founders of Islam intended, but nor I would suggest, did the creators of the Amish denomination create such a thing as sampling the regular world.

Surely such a thing would help both the white population and the Muslim population understand each other a little better? Surely it would help those trying to stamp our Muslim extremism to do just that? Those who others seek to brainwash would perhaps think twice, because they'd have seen how the 'infidel' are real people at heart.

The Amish experience suggests that, if family life is strong enough, and the belief is there, the children come back. There's no reason why it would be any different with any other religion. Surely, that's the way to promote tolerance within communities: get out there and experience it.

Hats off to Jack

WHAT made Jack Straw, a man normally so in tune with the Asian community that the majority population in Blackburn feel they are being excluded, make his comments about Muslim women wearing veils yesterday?

The political cynics immediatley linked it to John Reid's recent speech asking Muslim families to keep a close eye on who their children associate with to make sure they don't become terrorists. As with any statement any senior Labour figure will make in the weeks to come, it will almost certainly be presented as a leadership pitch.

I know Jack quite well and have sat through various meetings he has been out, as well as joining him out on the road when he has been campaigning during election time - as a reporter, by the way, not as some Labour Party stooge.

He's a good MP, and one of the few to reach the highest levels of government without abandoning the needs of his constituency. The famous story in Westminister is that, while once in Washington discussing some high-level foreign issue, he took a phone call from his local paper's lobby correspondent (when they still had one) to discuss concerns about wheelie bins back in Blackburn.

During the 2005 election, when various groups arrived in Blackburn to try and kick out Jack on the anti-war ticket (they failed), protests seemed to follow Jack wherever he went. One evening, he was doing a live debate on Five Live from a community centre in an Asian area of the town. The protestors outside (several dozen, none local), were getting noisy and his security people decided to whisk him away through a back door - but he still made sure I came along with him to do an interview he'd promised.

This, to me, only serves to show a) what a pro he is when it comes to dealing with the media and b) how, despite outside influences, Blackburn still backed Jack. the 2005 election result also showed that people respect Jack as a local MP first, and even where they disagree with him on policy, they know he will be open and talk about it.

To that end, I believe his column in the Lancashire (once Evening) Telegraph last night was an attempt to start a debate. To raise an issue which has obviously concerned him for some time. And I think he did a very good job in presenting the case that intergration is a two-way street.



If you look at the papers today, and indeed the paper he wrote in yesterday, you'd think Jack was TELLING Asian women to take off their veils. Not so. He said he asked women to take them off so they could speak face to face. And most, he said, happily did so.

However, he also said he respected the right of women to wear a veil, and he certainly didn't say he'd refuse to talk to them if they kept it on. A point which seems to have been lost by the 'pundits' (also known as gobs in the media) who were quick to condemn him.

One such group is the Muslim Public Affairs Committee - which spent much of the 2005 election campaign failing to get support to get Jack out. Their woman (without veil) was on TV shouting that Jack was 'a joke' and what he said was 'offensive.' But she failed to say why it was a joke or offensive. Unlike Jack, she was just a shallow soundbite.


As, indeed, was Salim Lorgat, left, an Asian councillor in Blackburn. He said people would be 'shocked'. He didn't say why. Nor did he mention he was Lib Dem councillor, whose party is, as a rule, the laughing stock of Blackburn as it jumps from bandwagon to bandwagon.

The interesting comments come from the Muslim Council of Great Britain, which appears to welcome public debate on the issue, and points out the veil issue causes divides within the Muslim community.

But the hypocrisy of some Muslims appearing in vox pops has been staggering.

Faiz Patel is quoted in the Telegraph as saying: "I thought we lived in a free country with free will."

It is, well done.

But then he goes on to say that: "I would not want my wife to remove hers in public."

Surely that's her choice, pal, not yours. Cos, after all, this is a free country, with free will. And if Jack wants to ask women to remove the veil, then he can. He also has no problem with women keeping them on. Unlike Mr Patel, he's giving women a choice.

Webcamoron

It's been a while since a politician made me want to instantly puke.

But David Cameron did it almost as soon as I heard the words: "Webcameron."

I mean, who in Tory Central Office - or whatever it's called now - honestly thought it would be a good idea? His jokey warning: "Watch out BBC and ITN, I coming to get you," what was that about?

He's not turning into one of these politicians who believes their failure to connect with the public is more to do with them having to deal with the great unwashed through the media than it has to do with the fact people are sick of them being all style and no substance, is he?

The rickety camera shot is horribly contrived, and the fact he's in the kitchen - that says to me 'I'm a man who is really too busy to talk to you but I'll make the effort.' If he's got something worth saying to attract my vote, he should give me his undivided attention.

Only he hasn't, has he? Nothing worth saying. Not at the moment, anyhow. Cos he's got no policies to speak of. Just a vote-vacuum which attempts to pick people up so dis-satisfied with Labour that they don't really need to hear policies.

So why has he stood up twice at conference to deliver long speeches which in a nutshell, tell us nothing. He is turning into Blair MkII. Remember where Blair was caught out talking about sitting and watching Newcastle United? He was rumbled when people pointed out it was terracing in those days. That was Blair's attempt to be the common man. Cameron's attempt to be a green man involves him going around on a bike. With a car behind carrying his filofax.

You can write off Blair's cock-up as a bit of image spin gone wrong. Loads of blokes bluster about how deep their love of a football club goes. Cameron's attempt, desperate as it is, to appear green is deeper than that. It's an attempt to deceive on the one policy he has let slip: that he intends the Tories to be green.

Blair's famous pre-election quote was 'education, education, education.' Cameron has tried to emulate that with: "Just three letters: N H S." Well done Dave, you've embodied the idea of cutting the crap, of slimming down, in a nice bit of spin. Only it means sod all. Better education can tackle so many social ills: it gives people the power to make informed choices, to live better lives. A better NHS may sound great, but you never WANT to use the NHS do you. You'd always rather not. So in essence, Labour's idea of prevention is better than cure is being turned on its head for the sake of a cheap slogan.

The more Mr Dave opens his mouth, and lets anything fall out so long as it doesn't represent a policy, the more I'm slowly beginning to believe that Tony Blair running the country is no bad thing.

Letting off steam

HAVE you ever seen the sign at train stations which basically tells you it is wrong to be rude or assault staff?

It's the one which, at first glance, looks as though they are promoting equal rights for dyslexic - but the idea is that it's as hard to understand the poster as it is to understand why people would assault train staff.

I'd fully agree, if it wasn't for the fact train staff have now taken that poster to be some sort of wonderful right to be as abusive, rude and downright unhelpful as possible.

The customer is no longer king when you travel on our trains - certainly not the Virgin or Northern services oop North anyhow - and the RMT-fortified staff seem to believe we should be eternally grateful just for getting to work.

Last Thursday, I was on the way into Liverpool on the train and it came to a stop at Broad Green, a stop it wasn't even supposed to stop at. For the next 20 minutes it didn't move, until the chappie with the ticket machine came through and said there was a broken down train ahead which may move in five minutes, or maybe five hours.

Asked what I should do, he said: "Get a bus. I've know idea what to do." Perhaps ring ahead and find out how long till the train can be towed away?

Monday morning. Manchester Piccadilly. They've these things called Fast Ticket machines which are supposed to end the need to queue at a ticket office by allowing you to buy your ticket, you guessed it, through a machine. The machine I went to wasn't working. The THREE men in Virgin Trains suits at the customer 'help' desk could see I was struggling. I asked for help. They said 'you'll have to go and join a queue' despite the fact they could actually do it on the computer in front of them. The gob of the three said this while laughing and with his hands behind his head.

He could perhaps have pointed out there were seven other machines, all working, which I could have used, and which I found under my own initiative.

And when I eventually got on to the train - run by Central Trains, the company which didn't realise there would be extra people travelling to Cardiff on the day of a football play-off final being played at a stadium 100 yards from the station - the conductor got annoyed with the length of time it took people to get off and then back on the train.

He shouted: "Come on, hurry up, you're holding the train up." Hang on, when was the last time you heard the customer being blamed for a train being let? What is the purpose of the train network? To get someone on time or to get people to a destination?

Then today, I was at a station where you can't buy tickets. I got on the train. The ticket man never came. I got to Liverpool and tried to buy a ticket from the ticket man at the ticket barrier (whose job, I presume, is to make sure people don't get off trains and the station without leaving the station.) What do you think he did? Thanked me for my honesty? Instantly produced my ticket? No, he tutted. Cos 'it means getting my machine going.'

I could go on, and invariably will. I understand fully why there are campaigns to make sure people don't attack the police/ambulance/fire services when they are attending jobs. They're saving lives. But campaigns to stop us being rude or offensive to rail staff? Perhaps the rail companies would be better off taking money away from ad companies and towards customer training, perhaps therefore making travelling by train more attractive and therefore keeping more services going and therefore employing more train people?

Or am I just being daft?

Respect where it is due

This is Janet Anderson. She's an MP for an area in Lancashire called Rossendale and Darwen, or Darwen and Rossendale if you come from the town which is just one letter - but a whole world - away from anything to do with Darwin.

Anyway, asides about small Lancashire mill towns put to the edge, Mrs Anderson is arguably the best lesson any former minister, or indeed current minister, could seek to learn.

Up until 2001, she held reasonably senior posts in Government. She was a senior whip and then a tourism and film minister. Then, in 2001, she was dropped to the backbenches.

Had she done anything wrong? Not that anyone could see and, this week, Tony Blair confirmed that.

His speech has been scruntinised across the world but it fell to the pages of the Lancashire (once Evening) Telegraph for me to pick up on the bit where he paid tribute to former ministers:

"People like Janet Anderson, George Howarth, Mike Hall.
"Good Ministers, but I asked them to make way.
"They did.
"Without a word of bitterness.
"They never forgot their principles when in office; and they never discovered them when they left office."

And it's true. Janet did just that. She never stopped being a good constituency MP but she continued being a good constituency MP and certainly didn't suddenly become a darling of the media, the ones we in newsrooms call the rent-a-gobs.

Claire Short, David Blunkett, and now Charles Clarke. The ones who seem to believe that revenge is a dish best served cold. Ironically, Blunkett was the one wheeled out by Sky News to tell Clarke that former prime minister should keep their mouths shut.

And more recently, people like Geoff Hoon, demoted from MoD to Europe minister, suggested Blair should leave sooner.

And then there is Chris Bryant, the MP who never made it to a minister, possibly because he was seen as a wild card after appearing on a gay website in his undercrackers. He pretty much started the 'time to go Blair' thing the other week - and he's not actually been removed from any post!

So perhaps, as the euphoria of Blair's speech dies down, people will remember this part of the one-hour script, the bit which sung the praises of those who have just got on with the job. No plotting, no ranting, just doing the job within the party - just like they were voted to do.

With a bit of luck, such a namecheck, while leaving the likes of Mrs Anderson 'chuffed' will also serve to show others there are rewards for playing things by the book. Like public respect.

What's the opposite of a footnote? Footnotes normally go at the bottom of a page, or after the thing it's a footnote about. Obviously I can't do that on this blog, but here's a footnote to Monday's piece about news people REALLY want to read.

Here are the top five stories people are emailing on to friends from the BBC website:

Beijing's penis emporium
Mona Lisa pregnancy theory mooted
Dog starts car after eating chip
Thai generals ban go-go dancers
South Africa's deepening malaise

I'm sure Bob Geldof is delighted the problems of Africa fall behind strippers, a potato-loving dog, a bit of luvvie tittle tattle and, oh yes, the good old Beijing penises!

Conference crackers

THERE'S something rather odd about the Labour Party conference these days, and it's not just because this year it has strayed away from the seaside.

Where are the politicians? Other than the Labour Party's frontbench of course, marshaled as they are into position to give glowing applause to whoever is on the stage regardless of whether or not they'd urinate on them if they combusted in a House of Commons corridor.

I know at least half a dozen MPs who really can't be arsed going to Labour's Party Conference anymore. And before you ask, they all are in the Labour Party. I know of several constituency Labour groups which can't find delegates to go along. Not because they don't have any active members, but because none of them think it's worth the time.

I covered the 2003 Labour Party conference in Bournemouth. Lovely hotel (it had four windows overlooking the sea, three of which were in my 'family suite'/loft). Nice restaurants. Interesting group of people in the 'lobby' who I got to know. But what about the politics? Well, I seem to remember Alistair Campbell was in the headlines and under pressure for his role in the David Kelly affair, and a row broke out about pensions. But apart from that, well, nothing.

There were lots of 'fringe meetings' with organisations who were keen to be seen and heard at Labour Party conferences in the hope ministers would remember names in the future (which is why The Times's story last week about people paying to dine with ministers at fringe meetings is hardly a surprise, the metaphorical bungs had just gone corporate).

But to rank and file party members, they mean little. They know that they can attend all the meetings they want, but they won't really make a difference. There was a demand today for more to be spent building council homes - a solution to the 21st century first-time buyers crisis. The delegates voted 2 to 1 for action. Will it happen? No. The leadership opposed it and don't have to do anything if they don't want to. The leadership have stifled 40 attempts at a discussion on Trident.

So the conference has gone from being about 'conferring' with members, to simply being a showcase. How successful a showcase it is depends on how well the spin works. Tony Blair may well now get his legacy after what was a barmstormer masterclass of a speech. But what do members get out it? What do those rank and file members get out it, other than a temporary euphoria which disappears as soon as they're back in the real world. Or outside the security cordon.

It's also a showcase for the unions, charities, organisations and companies who want to get on the Government's good side. Take Ken Livingstone's fringe meeting about local government on Monday. First question, who did it come from? An MP? A councillor? A hardworking door knocker activist? No. It came from a suit representing the 'Institute of Town Planners.' Followed by a question from the Royal National Institute for the Blind. Honestly.

In Manchester last night, the suits were there in their hundreds. Buzzing off being at a conference. Pressing the flesh to get their quango/charity/organisation/company's view across. Loving the fact they're part of it.

Meanwhile, the ordinary member is left feeling disengaged from what is going on in their party. If they want a show, they go to the Palace Theatre and watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It's cheaper, more entertaining, and probably a lot less predictable than the three weeks of farce the political parties call 'conference season.'

And they wonder why many of us no longer think they're in the real world.

Mourning glory

Princess Diana must have done wonders for Interflora - and Britain hasn't looked back since.

Ever since that carpet of flowers engulfed much of central London almost nine years ago in a show of public grief for the 'people's princess' (one part of the legacy Tony Blair probably wants to forget now), bouquets have appeared at the scene of virtually every crime or tragic occurrence.

What ever happened to the British stiff upper lip? Are we now a nation which simply mourns on queue?

I lost count last season the number of times I spent the first minute of a football match standing for a minute's silence, more often that not for a player not even remotley connected to the two clubs involved. I'm sure at some clubs, bookings for a minute's silence now outstrip requests for children to be mascots.

Once upon a time, a death for a journalist meant going out and doing the so-called 'death knock.' That's where you have to try and pursuade the relatives of dead person/people to have a chat with you. Some journalists say they 'want to write a tribute' to get a foot in the door, others just mumble and look pathetic in the hope those in mourning will feel sympathy for them. Even better if it's raining on the doorstep.

You'd go back to the office, write it up, preferably with a picture from the family, and that was that. But it now seems to be common place to follow it up with a news story talking about how many flowers have been left at the scene of the death. Forget lawyers being ambulance chasers, why not have florists advertising on the back of 999 vehicles?

How exactly does the flower thing work? Do you see something on the TV news which upsets you and ring interflora and ask for the nearest florist to drop off a bouquet of flowers? What exactly does that achieve, other than creating a distraction for drivers, thus increasing the risk of further tragedy on the road.

And it's not true that flowers are only left by people who knew the deceased. In Liverpool, rumours started spreading that a body had been found in a park. It was a baby, the local gossip said. Flowers began piling up at the scene, all with cards expressing sympathy and grief at the tragedy. The Liverpool Echo the next day had got to the bottom of the story: it was a chicken carcus.

Take this tragic five-month-old who died after being savaged by dogs at the weekend. Outside the pub where she died is a three-foot teddy bear. Why? What purpose will that serve? To remind her parents of what they've lost? It seems to me like one-upmanship. S/he who leaves the most at the scene, cares the most.

Grief on cue. Then there was old Richard Hammond last week. Within hours of it breaking on the news, people were gathering outside his hospital in Leeds, waiting for news. Surely you only go to hospital to check up on someone if you actually know them, as opposed to recognising their face off the TV. Flowers soon were piling up outside the hospital. At one point, it felt as if people were going through the motions of mourning his death even though he hadn't actually died.

But thank God common sense prevailed. It had to, really, because of Jeremy Clarkson's involvement in this. People who like him don't suffer silly gestures for the sake of it.

Instead of token gestures, people rallied round and used their concern to good effect: raising money for the Yorkshire air ambulance. £150k in two days to pay for a new chopper. And what's more, it looks like 'Hamster' is going to be ok. Whether he'll get back into a 300mph car again is another matter (indeed, see tomorrow for more on this).

Perhaps after the Diana effect, we'll now get the Hammond effect - where some good acutally comes from concern instead of pointless bundles of bouquets, which are left to droop and rot.

And I'm pretty certain no-one deserves to have their last place on earth marked by few brown stems.

EVERY now and again, journalists get a wake-up call about what the game is all about.

Sometimes, it can make you rethink what you do for a living. Other times, it makes you want to cry and THEN rethink what you want to do with your life.

Two years ago, having worked really hard to get 'in' with a family who hadlost their 2-year-old in tragic, and as it turned out criminal, circumstances, I got a call from the newsdesk. "We need another story about the baby" I was told. I asked why the reply was: "Cos whenever his face is on the front page, it adds 2,000 to sales."

And there was me thinking that it was about exposing injustice and criminalnegligence! But now, thanks to the BBC (and the unique way it is funded) we can getthese lightning bolts every day. Just log on its news website and look at the 'most popular stories now'section, then click on the 'most emailed' bit.

It should be a good guide tothe stories which interest people, because you aren't going to email a boring one to a mate are you? So what do you reckon topped the most emailed list on Sunday - the day when Blair was refusing to back Brown, Richard Hammond's fans were raising £150k in his honour (more on that tomorrow), and a baby had been mauled to death in Leicester by a dog?

Well, it was none of those to start. It was: Beijing's penis emporium, followed by US Hypoallergenic cat goes on sale. Anyone know the way to the job centre?

Anyone feeling spooked?

AS a water-cooler talker goes, the return of Spooks was an absolute banker.

I was one of those people who got to the end of the first half of the two-parter, went and put the kettle on, and then watched part 2 on BBC 3.

Rather irritatingly, I couldn't see the third episode (shown on BBC 3 30 minutes after episode two was shown on BBC 1 on Monday - keep up!) because of work, so in the space of 24 hours I went from being one of the smug 'I won't tell you what happens next but it's good' brigade of digitalTVites to one of the 'don't tell me, I'm waiting til next weelk hands-over-ears plebs.

If you missed the first two - and they've both been shown twice now so you had your chance - the crux of the plot was this: MI6's bosses are in cahoots with corrupt ministers to create a real fear of terrorism to the point where the prime minister agrees to form an executive committee which bypasses parliaments and makes decisions without democracy. All in the name of protecting democracy from terrorism - which in turn is being inflicted by the state.

They could do all sorts - control the media (all the media, not just the Murdoch ones they influence now) and detain people without trial. Oh yeah, and the judicary were Government-appointed.(as opposed to married to it, eh Mrs Blair?)

In typical Spooks fashion, the world - or Britain at least - came darn close to being taken over by the corrupt few at the expense of the voting majority. But MI5 saved the day, in the end. And I bet I wasn't alone in thinking, just for a moment, that 'it couldn't happen here, could it?'

By my reckoning, the answer is no. The ministers in the programme quoted a fictional bill which made it possible for the PM to go from leader of the ruling party to dictator and the swish of a pen.

But then again, what's all this about John Reid wanting to stop court cases being over-turned on a technicality? Hmmm, when I read this I was suddenly back at Spooks.

I'm pretty sure John Reid doesn't want to take over the world (maybe just Labour for now) but removing the right to a case being quashed because the proper processes weren't followed is, to me, the start of a slippery slope.

Yes, it's frustrating when Nick 'Mr Loophole' Freeman gets celebrities off driving offences time and again because the police didn't follow proceedures to the letter - but who is to blame for that? The police, I'd say, for not doing their job properly.

And once you say to someone 'sorry, but we know that we didn't follow the rules to the letter, but you can't appeal anyway', where does it stop? Do we get two years down the line and find someone appealing that their conviction is unsafe because they were beaten up by police during interview, only to be told 'sorry, but we still think you're guilty?'

Or can MI5 suddenly start using torture, because they are confident that the court will still be confident of a would-be terrorists guilt? Going back to Spooks the other night, and I remember the line from one of the crooked politicans being 'As soon as allowed Guantanamo Bay, all bets were off' or words to that effect.

I sat through Spooks thinking to myself 'it'll never happen, people will protest too much from the start.' Now I thinking: Maybe, maybe not. Reality mirroring fiction? Quite possibly.

Treat them like dogs

Treat 'em like dogs. That appears to be the latest line from Government when it comes to kids. Send 'em to school for 50 hours a week and then they'll be knackered.

That's what you do with dogs, isn't it? Tire them out to the point that they'll just crash in the corner, guaranteed not to poo on the carpet or chew up the sofa.

In an instant, I reckon Alan Johnson has solved all the country's anti-social problems. Children come home from school with too much energy. That's why they maraude around at night, makin mischief, having under-age sex and trying to work out how to get a quick swig of Woodpecker cider.

Make the school day longer, even if it is just adding an after-school club for the teens to run around in for an hour or so, will ensure they just go upstairs and lock themselves in their rooms and go to sleep. Even staying up to get a sneaky peak of some pseudo-porn on Channel 5 will be too much for their sleepy eyelids.

Forget having to bury your poor primary school test results, Mr Johnson. The youngsters will live in fear of having to work even longer in future if they fail.

And why stop there? If they refuse to behave when out with their parents, they should be made to wear silly little checked coats.

What about healthy eating? Simple, serve it up in a bowl - on a table, not on the floor, that would be cruel - and if they at first refuse to eat it, just leave it. They'll get hungry eventually. And they'll know better than to leave it next time.

And if there's any chance they are about to disappear down to the shops to stock up on Crunchies, just stick a lead on them. The lead could also be handed to teachers to stop them getting to the school fence at lunchtime where naughty mums are selling chips through the railings in the name of 'choice.'

That's what kids should get. A Dog's life. In the truest sense of the word. And if they don't fit in, well, there's always a greyhound 'rehoming centre' nearby.

Survey of the week

A third of British female population prefer buying shoes to having sex, according to a new survey.

A survey by New Look, the shop which, among other things, shoes. Now fancy that!

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

The smoke from the chimneys of these terraced houses hangs in the air in the Stubbins Valley, right on the edge of Greater Manchester.

The Brilliance of Blair

My mum would kill me if she saw that headline on anything I'd written.

But, for the first time in recent memory, I actually had a positive conversation about Tony Blair will an office colleague this week. Honestly.

Why? Well, who couldn't help but be impressed with the way he took on the TUC on Tuesday and, in my opinion, won?

Trade unions do have a role in life. They are there to help people in the workplace. They aren't their own political parties and the world would be marginally more understandable if they kept to their original brief of looking after the workers.

Since when was Government foreign policy anything to do with the RMT? Can you imagine Bob Crow's mob running the war in Iraq?

Sgt Major: "Strike!"

Bob Crow: "Come on then lads, you heard what the man said. One out, all out."

If I was Tony Blair, I'd have not even mentioned foreign policy in my speech to the TUC. I'd have stuck to the success of the minimum wage. The fight to sort out pensions. Why Labour's changing the NHS.

But he didn't. He took them on, and won. So what if Commando Crow and his motley men walk out? They're not even in the Labour Party anymore. You have to be in it to influence it, to distory a Lottery phrase, Bob.

The speech itself was pretty ordinary. Usual scripted fodder. But it was adlib at the end which was at its best.

At the end of the speech, he went on, much to many's surprise: "However difficult it is, however fraught our relations from time to time, make no mistake - I want the TUC to go on being addressed by a Labour Prime Minister not to addressed again by a leader of the opposition."

All of a sudden, everything became clear. Labour needs to work together if it is to remain in office. Labour won in 1997 because the Tories were in disarray.

It took one sentence, that's all, for Tony Blair to put a lid on everything that has rumbled on for the last week or so. One sentence. And I'm naive enough to believe those spin doctors around him weren't too sure of what he was going to say.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. The problem with Tony isn't Tony, it's his cronies who think they're protecting their man when, more often that not, they've hurt him.

Time for Tony to be the real Tony, even if that means not trying to be your 'regular kinda guy.'