Idiosyncratic additions

As you will discover, I am not all that enamoured of personalisation – but before we can all make that discovery together, I think we need to tackle the mastodon in the chamber (and no, I did not call upon M. Roget for aid).  I refer, of course, to GofaDM itself.

Some might suggest that this blog is the ultimate act of personalisation: claiming as I am a small strand of the web hanging, as it must, between a couple of its less travelled interstices.  I will own that there is some element of truth in this viewpoint, which could no doubt be winkled out using an epistemological mass spectrometer, but I would view GofaDM as a work of ex nihilo creation rather than being representative of the lesser vision needed for personalisation.  Hopefully, having confused the readers with that polymer of polysyllables I can now move on.

I am not a chap who goes in for much personalisation of my stuff.  This may be because, as a lone wolf, I already organise, plan and (whisper it softly) personalise enormous amounts of my time on this earth – and so like to leave some of my existence to the whims of others.  This doesn’t always work out perfectly: my new gaff has black granite worktops and my kitchen scissors are also black, so I spend an annoyingly large part of my life looking for them.  Despite their silvery blades, their camouflage is surprisingly effective.

It may also be that I exercise (or, indeed, exorcise) my ego via other routes than the making of transitory changes to the appearance of my desktop.  I suspect that The Library – or rather its real world instantiation – is one of these thoroughfares of the ego.  This may itself merely be but a single lane of the far wider boulevard, laid on by my superego, whereby I attempt to stuff my head with as much data as is feasible (and try not to worry about any surplus being forced dripping from my every cranial orifice).

I have owned laptops for years and yet the desktop is still as chosen at the factory and the icons are in whatever default order is provided.  I am, as noted before, quite unable to write in books – and am even somewhat averse to the authors doing so (I am generally willing to take on trust their ability to write their own name).  The walls of my garret are plain white (to match the ceiling and woodwork), though I will admit they are adorned with some rather fine art (largely produced by friends) which takes the edge off my apparent asceticism.

It is only after nearly 5 years (and 620 posts) that I did anything to personalise this blog – and so over-riding the decision made in summer 2010 to pick the first theme on the list provided by WordPress.  Some of that latest customisation only occurred after my blog soul brother led the way, bringing to my wayward attention whole swathes of functionality of which I’d never dreamt.  I am still very much the Padawan to his Master in this field (though, controversially, remain unbraided), but my age should spare me from some of the opprobrium which would be heaped on a younger blogger with such a basic presentation.

As I was marshalling the thoughts that would be shunted together for this post, it struck me that I have no idea how (or why for that matter) anyone should stumble across this blog.  I rarely encounter the blogs of other – unless they come knocking at my electronic door – and GofaDM makes few concessions to the casual reader or seeker of either enlightenment or entertainment.  The post titles are (if I’m honest) wilfully obscure and my attempts at tagging are little better.  Even should a fellow human be washed up, like driftwood, on these shores he may find his new island home a somewhat hostile environment.  The posts are packed with the nichest of allusions, baroque vocabulary and needless excursions into foreign tongues.  As an example of the hostile local wildlife: in a relatively recent post I parenthetically stated that “wry can lead to egotism” – a phrase which I still think is genius, but does require the reader to know that the consumption of rye bread can lead to ergotism (caused by a fungus) and to find a weak pun (weak, but there probably aren’t many more out there in this field) about this worthy of their time.  So, I am mystified as to how folk arrive here and, even more baffling, why a few (and evidence is growing that at least some of these are conscious entities) choose to stay (other than their excellent, if inexplicable, good taste – obvs).

Why has he chosen today, or all days, to write on this topic you might wonder (if you haven’t been drained of the will to live by this stage).  Well, I saw a car with the licence plate MR 61 AND this morning.  This strikes me as probably having been personalised in the hope of being read as Mr Gland (or Mr Bland – but even, if this were your name, would you pay to advertise the fact?  Unless it was personalised by an enemy…).  As a result, I decided the driver must be an endocrinologist and (more relevantly) began thinking about the topic of this diatribe.

Aha!  Revelation has just taken me forcibly from behind: I have no time for customisation of my stuff because all my free mental and physical resources are engaged in personalising my mind!  Given that it worked for the Bible (which I think can still boast more readers than GofaDM), I shall finish with my Revelations.


Clearly, today’s title could have been applied to the vast majority of the 463 posts which proceeded it – but, for once this is not all about me.  OK, if you insist, at least some of it isn’t about me and it was inspired by another.

On Friday, I caught our Prime Minister talking on the news about the situation in Crimea.  I am under few illusions that I am as egocentric as the next man (even when the next man happens to be a rampant egomaniac), but even I would have struggled to start quite so many sentences on the subject of the Crimea in the first person.  In the majority of cases, it wasn’t even the first person plural – no, Mr Cameron prefixed most the sentences I heard with the word “I”.

This started me thinking that perhaps, despite the evidence of this blog, I am still insufficiently self-obsessed for a career in politics – or at least one at (or near) the top.  Whilst the last 400 years have generally seen a move away from an earth-centred universe towards a heliocentric one and finally one which lacks any kind of centre at all (and, indeed, makes the whole concept meaningless), many politicians seems to have placed the centre a lot closer to home.  I suppose the clues were there to be seen…

Anything which might be considered a success, howsoever caused, is claimed as proof of the correctness of the path being taken.  Only this week, the Business Secretary congratulated the government for Hitachi moving its rail division HQ to the UK.  I notice he (and his predecessors and colleagues) talk to the press much less rarely to take the rap when a large corporation leaves the UK taking its jobs with it.  In fact, if things go wrong there seems to be a general hierarchy to the excuses – you blame the previous government, failing that the international situations (out of our control, mate) is a decent backup and failing that you blame something like the weather (or, as I heard this week, I think a corporation – rather than the government – blamed the timing of Easter for its substandard performance.  How foolish of the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE to fail to consider the impact of its work on corporate results in the 21st century).  Actually, the current government has – on occasion – taken a rather novel approach to deal with the disastrous economic and social consequences of some of their policies: they have decided that things going so badly actually supported their plan and proved it was the right thing to do (presumably, had things gone better they would have abandoned the policies in question and issued a grovelling apology?  Or perhaps, the government – like me – grew up watching Paul Daniel’s Bunco Booth, and unlike me took it as a model to be followed?).

I think a lot of these problems arise from the unfortunate human habit of believing that one is right.  I am afflicted by this particular malaise myself – but do have the benefit of being extremely fickle in my opinions.  So much so, that I have been known to start a sentence with one opinion and finished it convinced of the completely contradictory one.  I often only discover what I think by listening to what I am saying (never wise) – this seems to be particularly true at work where I seem to do some of my best “thinking” by flapping my mouth in public.  I do go to some trouble to seek out views that are not my own, particularly if they are articulated by someone with some skill in cogent thinking and explanatory power.  It is usually, initially at least, irritating to find someone can argue a viewpoint you disagree with and do so convincingly – but it does tend to lead to a more complete and balanced understanding of the issues.  I would give honourable mentions here to Roger Scruton (a philosopher with whom I share almost no political common ground but whose Points of View are always full of insight) and Victoria Coren-Mitchell (who both in Heresy and her Observer column always manages to come at an issue from a new direction).

Problems can even arise if you doubt your own rightness and refer to others.  I once arrived at a meeting very early indeed (about 6 hours) as a result of an error of this type.  I was the secretary to the meeting and wasn’t quite sure when it began, so checked with the chairman.  He confirmed my belief – and so we both arrived incredibly early.  It later became clear that his information had, in fact, come from me – and so I had, inadvertently, checked with myself!   Even checking with many others can go wrong, I well remember a situation where a particular part of a market design was believed to be so poor that anything would be an improvement.  After many, many hours (and £s) of work, a new design was produced and everyone was able to agree about one thing: it was MUCH worse than the thing it was intended to replace.  The dear old Coalition seem to have fallen foul of much the same issue with its change to student funding – it would seem that not only is it rather unpopular (especially with the young – though luckily they tend not to vote) but it also seems to be even more expensive that the system it replaced.  Since its sole benefit (so far as I can determine) was to reduce costs, this seems to have been somewhat of an own goal.  I am beginning to wonder if when you have a system that everyone can agree is so bad it can’t be made any worse, the last thing you should do is try and change it – “Do Nothing” really is always an option and often (I suspect) to quickly rejected.  I fear our whole society, and government in particular, feels it must be seen to be doing SOMETHING (anything!).  Again, I am guilty of this myself: feeling guilty if I’m doing nothing (and now feeling guilty about that guilt.  Arghh!).  Perhaps it is time to embrace indolence and finally realise my ambition to become a flâneur.  Well, it’s either that or take my self-obsession to the next level and run for office!