For a few months, I'm going to stop doing comedy. I've rather fallen out of lust with it in recent weeks. I'll start again in a few months time, I'm certain of that, but now seems like a good time to pause - I want to take a different direction with my material, and these next few months could potentially be intensely busy, while I start up some crazy but exciting new political schemes (which I'll write more about in a few days time).

To explain why I'm taking a break, it might be useful if I brought you up to speed on how things have been going. Last September, when I fully paid off my debt, moved back to London and started stand-up again after 18 months away, I knew that I wanted to leave behind the surreal, absurdist comedy I was doing before, and move more into political comedy, to try to bring my new-found love of politics and activism to the stage. I still loved surreal comedy, but I knew that I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't use the microphone to try to inspire people, and bring important stories to their attention.

And for the first three months, I was fiercely motivated. During that time I wrote, amongst other things, 15 minutes of material about the abhorrent things the Daily Mail do, like their double-standards on the cervical cancer vaccine or their attitude towards teaching kids not to be violent, and the adventures with the Polljack project. I wrote 20 minutes of material about Trafigura, the injunction, the Minton report, and the various protests I got involved in. I wrote 15 minutes about the absurdity of every person, company, bank and country being in debt at the same time, and the outrageous solutions our governments used to fix the global credit crisis. I wrote and re-wrote, I practised damn hard, and when I wasn't writing or gigging, I was out at live comedy, scoping out potential new gigs, making friends with promoters, and trying to get stage time. Doing all that, and also holding down a day job, and also studying for an exam, and also, y'know, having a life, was exhausting but exhilarating.

But as December rolled on, my motivation utterly died. A few things caused it, but mostly it was the fact that I found it incredibly hard to actually get gigs. Far harder than back in 2007, when I regularly had five gigs a week, even in the early days. Now I seemed to have about three a month. I thought it was me not trying hard enough. Perhaps I was going to the wrong places, meeting the wrong people. Then I learned that a significant number of acts, some of whom have had great success and have been going for a few years, faced similar problems. The reasons why would require a whole post of their own, and to be honest would probably cause more drama on teh internet than I can be arsed with. But without a regular supply of gigs, writing political material seemed like a hopeless waste of time. By its nature, political stand-up only has a limited shelf life, and it requires a pretty intense level of thought and research. Or at least, it does when you're as daft as I am. But what's the point in working hard when I only get to perform a few times a month, each time to a handful of people? And if you think about how many people you can actually fit into the average hand, you'll see it really isn't that many.

Realising this really knocked me hard in the middle of December, and I stopped actively looking for gigs while I took a step back to take stock. I started calling up lots of comedy mates for one-on-one drinks to talk about my thoughts, to work out what I was trying to achieve with comedy, to share my list of annoyances with the circuit, and to try to get their perspective on it all. I was hoping that they'd clip me round the ear and tell me to stop being a mopey shit. Sadly, many of them agreed with me. Bloody comedians.

I don't think I gigged at all between the middle of December and the middle of January. I've done a couple since then, but I'm not feeling the love I once did for it. Skip to the end, here's my new plan. I'm going to take a rest from comedy until late March/early April, when the days are brighter and my more mischievous side re-appears. When I get back, I won't abandon political comedy completely, but it isn't going to by my main focus. For "circuit" gigs, I want to return to that silly and surreal style I used to do, and that's where I want to focus the majority of my comedy. If I were to be honest, I think it's the sort that I enjoy doing the most. But for those occasions when I get invited along to a political comedy night, I'll bring along political material, and that'll be a treat for me as well. More than anything, I want to start up my own gigs again, and get other compering work. That's where my true passion lies. My stand-up is pretty okay, but I have the most fun when I can just relax, chat with an audience, be upbeat and friendly, and keep a gig running along.

I'm not giving up comedy. I just can't be arsed at the moment, and the few gigs I have done have been quite shocking because I haven't put anywhere near enough work into them beforehand. That's simply not good enough, so for now, I'm going to put comedy on hold, and instead I'm going to try to develop a few of the exciting but hugely time-consuming political schemes that have been knocking around in my mind for a while.

Soon, I'll blog about those political projects I want to concentrate on over the next few months. Ya mo' be there!

Image from hiddedevries on Flickr, under a Creative Commons license.

An occasional criticism of the Polljack project is that it brings extra traffic, and therefore advertising revenue, to the Daily Mail. It also calls attention to articles and columnists who really deserve to fade into obscurity, rather than become famous through notoriety.

These are both very good points. In an ideal world, I want no-one ever to visit the Daily Mail site. Nothing would make me happier than to hear that its readership was halving every day. Except perhaps to hear that the rate of readership decline was inversely proportional to the amount of chocolate cake in my fridge. You can improve almost anything by adding chocolate cake into the equation.

The problem we face is that the Daily Mail is one of the most read newspapers in Britain, both in print and online. In other words, our problem is that a great many British people are idiots. Last year their site frequently reached almost 30 million unique readers per month. In contrast, my bit.ly links to Daily Mail polls are usually clicked about 3,000 times. The amount of advertising revenue that is potentially being gained by the Daily Mail from our traffic is tiny compared to the amount it gets in total. With that in mind, I believe that the fun we have when we hijack polls, and the awareness we raise regarding the Daily Mail's lies, is worth a tiny increase in traffic to their site.

I do acknowledge that if we didn't hijack their polls, they would still get 4,000 fewer hits. I also recognise the argument which says that a good percentage of the Daily Mail's site traffic comes from lefties linking each other to outrageous articles to share rage and indignation. However, I would still argue that the tiny increase in traffic that Polljack gives the Daily Mail is a small price to pay for our ability to raise awareness of the vile articles that the Daily Mail publishes - and when the paper in question is one of the most widely read newspapers in Britain, it is essential that we arm ourselves with such knowledge. When we all share concrete examples of right-wing newspapers lying, misrepresenting the truth, and saying things which are dangerously wrong, we remind ourselves and our friends that newspapers like the Daily Mail actually have a detrimental effect on our democracy. Their distortions and deceit influence the way that people vote, they influence the opinions that people have and the things they campaign for. If the opinions we have are based on lies, then democracy simply doesn't work. We must all constantly remind ourselves of this fact, to inspire us to work for change.

Which brings me onto another criticism: what change? Just how valuable is consciousness-raising, unless it is coupled with direct action? In fact, I have a few ideas for potential protests, and plan to explain the details in a future blog post. However, with a regulatory body as weak and useless as the Press Complaints Commission, it is hard to know what to suggest. Even in his devastating account of the UK newspaper industry, journalist and industry expert Nick Davies struggled to think of workable suggestions towards fixing the mess. But whatever we choose to do, we need large numbers of people on our side - and through the Polljack account, we certainly have that.

The work we're doing when we hijack polls is simple and mischievous. The whole point is to have a laugh, at the same time as raising awareness of the bigotry, sexism, bad science and hatred that is pumped out on a daily basis by Lord Rothermere's rag. But if we can quadruple the number of people who follow @Polljack, we'll have a substantial list of people who might be interested in going a few steps further. Perhaps we could stage a real-life protest. Perhaps we could organise a letter-writing event. Perhaps we could make a newsletter to give out in towns and train stations. Maybe we could lobby for a new law which says that newspapers must declare on the front page what percentage of the newspaper is untrue. We are limited only by our collective imagination, and our collective will to act - and the more victories we have, the stronger our will to act will become.

This project has brought together thousands of media-savvy passionate liberal people with a thirst for more honest news reporting, who want to fight against racist, sexist, reactionary liars. If the cost of this is that the Daily Mail has made a couple of quid in advertising revenue, then I believe it is worth it. Now let's destroy the Daily Mail soon, before they earn any more.

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My personal Twitter account is @chris_coltrane. I'm a stand-up comedian that tweets about politics and protests, skepticism and science, with a big dollop of jokes and nonsense. Do follow me if you like that sort of thing.

I also have another project, which I plan to launch as soon as I can get my act together, at @BoycottMurdoch. At the moment I just share Murdoch-related links. When the site is complete, I want to encourage everyone to boycott everything that Rupert Murdoch's companies own and make. Follow it if you want to smash Murdoch's media empire!

Last month I blogged about our protest outside the offices of Trafigura. We read from parliamentary proceedings to raise awareness about the fact that Trafigura were suing the BBC over an investigation into the toxic waste they dumped in the Ivory Coast.

It now looks like Trafigura are winning.

The report has disappeared from the BBC's website, and as far as I can see, not a single word has been mentioned about it in the mainstream press. So once again, it's time for bloggers to raise awareness.

Here's the original page from the BBC website, in PDF format, which has now been taken down from the BBC site. And the YouTube videos below are the original Newsnight report. If you have a blog, re-post these yourself, and link to Rich Wilson's excellent summary of the story so far.





As Rich says at his blog, "The mainstream UK media has so far assiduously avoided reporting on the BBC’s climbdown. Yet it’s an issue that raises serious questions about the state of press freedom in Britain, at a time of unprecedented attacks on the media."

They might think they can silence the press, but they can't silence all of us. Let's beat the bastards, and stop Trafigura's attempts to censor the press. Post this on your blog, tweet it, ask other people to do the same, and spread the word. Let's smash them.


PS I don't know who wrote this, but there's a great Wikipedia article on the scandal here.

I collected all sorts of shite when I was a kid. Badges, toy figures, even fucking sachets. I had a big greasy bag full of the salt and peppers of the world. Ketchup, mayonnaise, leaking vinegar - other kids were reading books or playing football, but not me. I was alphabetising my salad cream. Christ knows what I thought I was going to do with them. Maybe take the mouldy old sack of sachets into the Antiques Roadshow so an expert can tell me he recognises the craftsmanship of the American Airways salt sachet to be the work the Johnson Family factory in Weymouth. "See those tiny flames along the perforations? This is a special commemorative sachet that the workers secretly printed in solidarity with the Miners' Strike. That's a revolutionary sachet you've got there, son. That's history you're holding in your hands. I'd recommend insuring that immediately for £400,000."

When I was 12, I gave stamp collecting a go. You could buy international stamps for £4 a bag down at our local market, so I bought a couple of them with a book to file them all by country, then took the bags home and studiously spent the weekend categorising my purchases. And it was only when I stuck the final stamp into the book, at perfect right-angles to the printed grid, that I suddenly realised that collecting stamps was a load of tedious old arse. I binned them all immediately and declared the entire weekend a write-off.

Now here's the thing: my nan saw me filing away my stamps, but didn't see me declare it to be soul-destroyingly boring. The following week, she brought me one of those Royal Mail Presentation Packs. There's a photo at the top of this blog post to show you the sort of thing I mean. You've seen them before, those stamps they put out occasionally with themed pictures on them to celebrate something like North Yorkshire, or the circus, or yachts, or the marriage of Prince Edward and Sophie. If old people lap it up, they'll chuck it on a stamp.

My nan's gift put me in a difficult situation. On the one hand, I didn't want them. On the other hand, my nan was doing something very kind and thoughtful for me. She was being terribly sweet, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that they weren't my sort of thing, especially as she looked so happy to give them to me. So I just said thank you, pretended to read through the sleeve notes while she was there, and then when she left I popped them at the back of the cupboard. I didn't think anything more about it.

As it turned out, that was a monumental mistake, because a month later, she brought me up some more - and she did the same the month after that. And the month after that. And as every month went by, and my collection of Presentation Packs grew, it became increasingly more difficult to tell her that I actually didn't want any of them. So, erm... I sort of didn't say anything.

Skip to 15 years later. I now have about two hundred and fifty of them, from editions 224 to 430, plus the royal and movie special editions. I've got ocean liners, I've got castles and bridges, I've got the Olympics and the Hong Kong handover, I've got royal marriages and Diana's death, I've got Harry Potter and James Bond, I've got fucking Testicles of Achievement, I've got The Proud Cocks of the British Isles, I've got the Queen fisting a dog's arse to commemorate war heroes. I've got the lot and then some. Ladies and Gentlemen, people of the internet, it is time to come clean: For the past fifteen years, I have collected stamps against my will.



This Christmas, the madness ends. I'll tell my nan that I greatly enjoyed collecting them while it lasted, but that I no longer have the room to store them. After that, I'll find a constructive use for them. I've been into a few stamp collecting stores on The Strand, and alas, the news is bleak: almost all of them are worth nothing beyond the cost of the stamps they contain. People frequently buy them at auction to actually use them as stamps, so I plan to use most of them to post things I sell on the internet. I've looked on eBay, and an awful lot of them don't sell at all. But it's surprising which ones are actually worth something. I mean, really? How am I meant to even guess what ones are valuable when fruit 'n' veg is one of the big money prizes? I bet that Prince Edward and Sophie one is worth a grand.

I used to feel guilty about not telling my nan that I didn't want them. The more she spent, the more of a waste of money it all seemed to be. The taller the pile grew, the more ungrateful I felt. But in retrospect, I don't think it was such a waste. She works in a local rural post office, and whenever she gave me that month's stamps, we'd sit down and she'd tell me about all the weird and wonderful characters that pass through her shop. The conversation would go on to her telling me about her work and her friends, and the things happening in her village. As a teenage boy, those were the sort of things that would never have come up in conversation between us, had these stamps not been there to ignite the chat. What I used to see as a needless expense, for which I was entirely to blame, I now see as an (admittedly costly) way of helping me and my nan to bond. Of course, it's possible that I'm just saying that to make myself feel better for not being more honest all those years ago - but I do believe that, had it not been for these stamps, my nan and I would hardly ever have spoken. The Royal Mail has done us a great service. And if I'm smart about how I use and sell them, it won't have been a waste of money at all.

Anyone want to buy some stamps?

A couple of hours ago, a group of us protested outside Trafigura's London offices in an event we called the Flipcam Flashmob, in defiance against Trafigura's attempt to stop the UK media reporting the fact that their toxic waste is alleged to have caused illness to tens of thousands of people in the Ivory Coast, along with over a dozen deaths.

Specifically, we wanted to highlight the fact that Trafigura and Carter Ruck are STILL suing the BBC for libel, and thus continuing to cast a chill over the UK media's reporting of this horrific event. While the BBC are being sued, the rest of the media won't dare to touch the story.

The interesting thing is that the BBC are being sued for saying essentially the same thing that was recently said in Parliament. With that in mind, the plan was to turn up outside Trafigura's Oxford Street offices (opposite Primark) with as many people as possible, armed with video cameras to recite the Parliamentary text. After all, we have an absolute legal right to quote from Parliamentary proceedings. We would then upload it all to the internet, and share it with as many people as we can.

It was a fun little protest, small but passionate. The clear highlight were the "middle-class warriors" Sly and Reggie, turning up at 1 on the dot with four speakers strapped to an old Morris pickup, blasting out some dub while proclaiming the banned text to anyone who passed by. Excellent stuff, the boys made the whole thing worth it. Other people spontaneously turned up to read the banned text into a camera, and when we were done, we toasted to freedom with banana beer.

Quite hilariously, there were exactly as many police as there were protesters. One policeman per protester. I've got to hand it to the Met, they know to put on a personalised service. If I'd known I were to have my very own policeman, I would have called ahead to see if I could customise them. "Could I have one with green eyes? Toxic green, if you could." Two of them were plain-clothed police, talking into radio mics, and nodding to the other cops. The only way they could have been less subtle about being undercover was if they'd been wearing a t-shirt with sewn-in flashing lights saying "I'M A PLAIN-CLOTHED COP." It turns out that the police found out about it from reading the Facebook page, and from reading the tweets and blog of myself and my activist mate Rich Wilson. I'm having that on the poster for my next Edinburgh show. "Chris Coltrane: 'Essential reading' say the MET."

About ten people came in total over the course of the hour, which might not sound like much, but it was perfect for what we were trying to achieve. The protest was partly a way of filming people reading the text outside their offices, but to be perfectly honestly, it was more a way of getting people to tweet about Trafigura at 1pm. And if you do a search for Trafigura on Twitter, you'll see that we definitely achieved that. There were about 5 tweets a minute between 1pm and 2pm, and there's been scores more since then, too. So in my opinion, it was a great success.

The plan now is to get as many people as possible to film themselves reading the banned text, upload it to YouTube, and tweet it. If you're reading this now, you should totally get involved. It couldn't be easier. Click here to read the instructions on what to say, upload your vid, and either comment here with a link, or tweet me @chris_coltrane with the video. In a few days time, we'll gather all the videos together to put them on one web page, with the intent of inspiring even more people to do the same thing.

With libel chill in place, the press won't mention that the BBC are being sued. But remember, we pay for the BBC. That's our money Trafigura are trying to take. When Trafigura sue the BBC, Trafigura are suing you and me. Don't let them get away with it. Record your video, upload it, tweet about it, and send me the link. If we keep on fighting, we can succeed where our newspapers, and our libel laws, have failed.

Peter Mandelson confirmed today that the government plans to cut off the internet connections of persistent file sharers. The reasons why this is an abhorrent idea have been laid out clearly before - read this excellent blog post by my friend Rob to get up to speed.

Almost everyone I know is hurt, disappointed, and furious at this decision. As top blogger Hannah Nicklin tweeted, "I have no idea how I can protest this. I've signed all the petitions, shouted all I can, what can we do? I am not used to feeling impotent. It makes me very angry". I absolutely agree. What can we do? We've fought hard. We've campaigned. And it feels like it was all for nothing. But we can't give up; this battle is far too important. We need a plan.

I give money to the campaigners at the Open Rights Group, who are doing some sterling work with raising awareness and lobbying MPs. And that's a start, but it's nowhere near enough. We could protest about this, and that would be a great thing to do to raise awareness, but a one-off protest can only have so much impact. I also think we should actively get involved with the political parties who are campaigning to make a difference here. For me, that's the Green Party. But for you, perhaps it's the Pirate Party, or someone else. We need a party in power who are looking after our interests, not the interests of the rich.

But there's something else we could do. Here's what I'm thinking:

From today, until the day that the government promises that it won't cut off, cap or limit anyone's internet connection in any way, we boycott all the labels who believe in Three Strikes.

Let's exclusively listen to, and buy, music which is published on small independent labels, or which is released under Creative Commons licenses. This decision came about because the music (and movie) industries have lobbied, relentlessly, to get their own way. This is their fault. We can teach Labour a lesson by not voting for them. Let's teach the major labels a lesson in exactly the same way.

It won't be easy, I'll admit. There'll be good new music which we won't be able to own. We'll feel left out of conversations between our friends. We'll have to miss out on some big, fun gigs. But by the same token, we'll discover brand new music on the indie scene. We'll discover new gems, introduce our friends to them, and bump up the profile of small-time bands. We'll still be giving money to artists. "The music industry" doesn't lose out. We're not boycotting music. Our money just goes to the people who aren't actively campaigning for this draconian legislation.

And I also acknowledge that there are some small-time indie labels who probably support the three-strikes rule. The size of the label doesn't matter. I'm not bothered about whether they're barely turning a profit, or whether they're a multi-billion pound industry. What matters is their politics. We need to get a list of "safe" labels, so that we can be confident that when we listen to music, we're staying true to the cause.

And finally, let me be clear: I'm not saying that this is a perfect idea. On the contrary, it will be awkward and difficult. But what else are we supposed to do? Carry on giving them money even though they've spent millions of pounds of their profits on lobbying for some of the most outrageous decisions in living memory? No. This can't go on. They want to control our access to the internet. In retaliation, let's reject their culture, and make our own.

Image licensed by the World Economic Forum under a Creative Commons license.

As a society, we should be delighted when we can make one machine do the job of a dozen people, in a tenth of the time. It should be a cause of celebration! We can collectively put up our feet, work less hours, have more leisure time, and reap the benefits of increased productivity. Everyone should share in the positive benefits of technological advances.

But amazingly, under capitalism, it's possible for this to be a bad thing. Business certainly benefits from increased productivity and decreased cost. Consumers benefit, in the form of lower prices . But after decades of loyal service, the workers can find themselves without a job, and with a very specific skill-set which cannot be transferred into a new career. Do we expect those workers to re-train themselves at their own expense? How will they afford to do that, and also raise a family and pay a mortgage? Will they be forced to take the first unskilled job they find, on a much lower wage? These questions become even more pressing when many people in a town all work for one employer. If a mining town suddenly finds itself without open mines, or if a major factory closes production, what can the workers do? The answer is usually "very little". And without the help of others, the consequences can be profoundly negative, as entire communities find themselves with no work, and no money.

The Royal Mail say the number of letters it delivers falls by 10% each year, thanks in no small part to the internet, and so less workers are required to sort the falling quantity of post. It also says that a £2.1bn plan to bring its sorting machinery into the 21st century will bring more automation into sorting offices - again, requiring fewer staff. This should be a wonderful thing - and it still can be, as long as we make sure that no-one suffers.

Perhaps I'm being wildly naive when I say this, but it seems to me that one of the benefits of having a publicly owned service like the Royal Mail is that the taxpayer can protect redundant workers from months of sitting on the dole by re-training them, then getting them a new career in the public sector. The new technology the Royal Mail wants to install will save us many millions of pounds in increased productivity, so why can't we take the money we've saved, and say to those people whose jobs are no longer required:

"We'll pay to send you into training for any career of your choice. Plumber, chef, technician, nurse, train driver, whatever you like. Don't go mad, we're not going to send you on a ten year medical course, but we'll train you to get a decent, useful job. We'll pay you your full working wage while you learn. We'll support you with a better-than-dole wage while you look for your first job. We'll subsidise your wage in the first year of your new employment, if your wage is significantly lower than the wage you were on. And we'll make you a preferred candidate for any public sector vacancies once you're qualified."

In the short term, of course it's going to cost a lot. But with the money we'll be saving from technological improvements over the years, would that really be so much of a stretch on the public purse? Society will gain by having an army of newly skilled workers, who will (hopefully) be happy because they'll be able to support their family, and won't be unemployed with no skills to offer. The town will benefit from not having hundreds of people suddenly on the dole, fighting for work. It will stop the community from falling into poverty, thus lowering the risk of an increase in crime. And we'd be paying out a lot of money in the form of various benefits anyway - we might as well spend it productively.

I've never heard of anyone discussing the feasibility of taking such bold and decisive steps. And that's a shame - because if the money crunchers could produce some numbers to show how much it would cost, and how much it would benefit in the long run, I think we'd see some positive answers. Like I say, it's perfectly possible that I'm being naive, and am failing to understand some basic tenant of economics which says that this idea wouldn't work. Whether you agree with me, or think I'm a lunatic, do let me know in the comments.

Hello Jeff!

On Friday, we tried polljacking an old Daily Mail survey which accompanied an article by Andrew Alexander - a man whose melting face could perfectly imitate a lava lamp if he wobbled his cheeks.

In his article, he asks: why do politicians pretend that manmade climate change is happening, when any reactionary old Daily Mail hack can see that it's quite clearly not? Of course, he knows the answer - it's because accepting climate change gives politicians the perfect excuse to meddle in our lives, bring in new laws, and tighten the grip on their power. Yes, that's definitely the reason they accept climate change. It's got nothing to do with the global consensus among mainstream scientists that the evidence points towards manmade climate change being both real and dangerous. No, nothing to do with that at all!

The accompanying poll asked "Are MPs making too much political capital from climate change?", and, perhaps unsurprisingly, only 13% of voters said No - so a Polljack follower suggested we hijack it, and pump up the vote. I was cautious, as it was over a month old, but the recent Daily Mail polls had been pretty boring. So, I tweeted saying "Stupid Daily Mail poll asks why politicians don't deny climate change. Let's hijack it!". Countless people re-tweeted, and from the stats at bit.ly I see that 1,098 people clicked the link. And yet, by the end of the day, the No vote which started at 13%... had only increased to 19%!

So many clicks, for only a 6% difference.It would be easy to feel disappointed. But I don't think we should be. First of all, this article was over a month old, so our thousand votes were up against the tens of thousands of people who had already voted over the past 39 days. This is a lesson learned. From now on, we'll only attempt to hijack new polls.

And secondly, today's experiment gives us a good idea of the number of votes we need to genuinely make a difference. If 1,000 votes equals 6%, then we need 10,000 votes to make a 60% difference. Probably less, if we only hit new polls. Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic (Me? Never!), but I don't think that's too hard to achieve, especially if the poll is particularly outrageous, and inspires enough people to pass the link on. With that in mind, I'll also only suggests polljacks occasionally. I don't want to dilute people's passion for the idea with too many tweets, and if we did it too regularly then people might get bored, and be less inclined to re-tweet each one.

As well as more RTs, we also need more followers. So many people FollowFriday'd Polljack. It was a terribly kind thing to do, and I'm very grateful (and proud!). The next step is to turn 500 followers into 5,000. How? To be honest, I'm quite tempted to just go out into the street and hold up a sign saying "If you hate the Daily Mail and have a Twitter account, talk to me". I did a similar thing while promoting my comedy club, and it actually worked! But while I do think it'll be a laugh to do that IRL, and would happily do it for that reason alone, I'm not entirely convinced that it will be hugely effective. In any case, more followers is paramount to this campaign. When we get 10,000 (human) followers, we'll be able to have a genuine impact on any poll we like - and that's when the real fun begins!

And if we only Polljack infrequently - if it just so happens that the Daily Mail don't actually post any polls worth Polljacking - well, that means we've won. We want them to not post hateful polls and thoughtless articles. The only way we'll lose is if we don't try fighting them when they do. So let's stick with it, and all do our best. If we fight, we can definitely win. I'm sure of it. ;)

(If you fancy more Fun Times, you can follow me @chris_coltrane. Also, you can comment on this blog post anonymously, or using OpenID if you have a Blogger/WordPress blog. Don't be shy, Jeff!)

(Last edited 7th October)

Hello! If you're reading this, you probably clicked on my Website link on Twitter. This is my blog, and I've made this post to introduce myself, to make myself seem like less of a random man on the internet. Then we can both be best friends, and do each others hair, and talk about boys and parties and fashion.

I'm Chris, a stand-up comedian, a geek for anything Japanese, and a political troublemaker with a passion for socialism, civil liberties, feminism, skepticism, atheism, green economics, beating the Bad Guys, and making the world a better place. I hate Rupert Murdoch, I love nonsense and absurdity, and I like to think that I look more than a little bit like this.

I've loved comedy for as long as I can remember, especially the silly/surreal (Vic and Bob, Harry Hill, Mighty Boosh), political (Mark Thomas, Mark Steel, Rob Newman) and anyone who can combine the two (Chris Morris, Armando Iannucci, Jon Stewart). I think, and hope, that my style swims around in that mix of genres. I performed my first bit of stand-up in November 2006, and between then and Jan 2008 I gigged as much as I could. I also started my own club in Camden called The After School Club, dedicated to alternative comedy, and to any comedy which a Jongleurs audience wouldn't understand.

Unfortunately, in January 2008 my debt rather caught up with me! So I put stand-up on hold, moved out of London and took a second job to clear it quickly. After 18 months of working solidly, I cleared my debt, moved back to London last September, and started gigging again. I still want my comedy to be silly and friendly, but I'm burning to be more political than I was, to bring outrageous scandals to people's attention, and to inspire and inform, but without sounding preachy. I also want to write a pamphlet to give out for free after gigs, to convince people not to read free newspapers, and to start caring about where their news comes from.

Other plans in the pipeline: as well as four ideas for Edinburgh shows, I'm writing a book proposing we abolish money, make everything free, and completely redesign almost everything about society and government (it's less mental than it sounds - though only marginally). I want to learn how to play the harp. I have two ideas for slightly-warped screenplays which I want to flesh out. And I want to learn Italian and Japanese. Too much work for one man on top of a day job? Only one way to find out!

Aside from comedy, I love music, especially dirty electro-house, melancholic acoustic singer-songwriters, jumped-up disco, cheesy J-Pop and eurobeat, and downtempo electronica. But I'm equally happy listening to grunge or garage, baroque or breakbeat, funk or folk. If it's made with passion, I'll give it a go. As for movies, I like them dark, twisted, romantic and intelligent. I buy about six books for every one that I find time to read, and love novels about romance, triumph and danger, and non-fiction books which expose political corruption and evil corporations.

I love Japanese pop culture, especially anime and manga. There's an absurd sense of humour which I've yet to find in the west, which I totally crave. Shows like Bobobo, Excel Saga, Digi Charat, Jungle-wa Istmo Hale Nochi Guu and Child's Toy are what shaped my sense of humour. And the darker side of anime, like Death Note, Jigoku Shoujo and Serial Experiments Lain, is what I crave after dark.

I am always excited when I go to the theatre; I love exploring a new part of London on a sunny day; and if you take me out for Chinese or Japanese food, my loyality will be guaranteed.

So, that's me. Hello Jeff! How are you?

Last week, outraged Twitter users shared a link to a story on the Daily Mail website which reported plans to teach children not to be violent towards women and young girls. "They will include teaching boys that they must not beat their partners or any other female", said the Mail. Most of you probably think there's not an awful lot wrong with the idea of teaching kids not to beat up women. However, the journalists at the Daily Mail are, to use a technical term, mentally ill. And therefore, they believe that this is not only outrageous, but part of a leftist conspiracy.

"Last night, critics warned that ministers are cramming the already over-stuffed National Curriculum with lessons that should be taught in the home or in the community. Others say the plan is part of the feminist agenda led by Harriet Harman in her role as Equalities Minister. They pointed out the new classes will not cover violence against men, who are far more likely to be the victims of violent crime." (emphasis my own)

Alongside this drivel was a poll asking "Should children as young as five be taught about domestic violence?". Twitter users, being thirsty for mischief and justice, decided to take the results under their command, as hundreds - maybe even thousands - of people shared the link and told their followers to vote Yes. Epic lulz ensued, and a sickeningly large No vote at the start of the day turned into a 57% yes vote by bedtime.

This has happened once before, when the Mail posted a truly absurd poll asking "Should the NHS allow gipsies to jump the queue?". A monumental level of RTs yielded a 93% yes result. Good news indeed, but even though they withdrew that particular poll, it clearly hasn't stopped them from asking their readers imbecilic, loaded questions.

The popularity of the "feminist agenda" polljacking made me wonder if anyone would be interested in a regular campaign to ruin the Daily Mail's polls. So as an experiment, I made a Twitter account called @Polljack, and tweeted saying "I've made @Polljack so we can destroy the results of Daily Mail polls. Follow it and RT this post if you like the idea!". I thought that maybe 50 or so people would be interested, and we might have a brief flurry of fun. Within an hour, it had a hundred followers. By the end of the day, it had just under 400 - and at the time of writing, there are 506 people following the account. (And if I've done my job right, none of them are spambots!) More people RTd my post and linked to @Polljack than I could possibly count. Though, that is because I can only count up to 14. But still, I was overwhelmed with the popularity of the idea. Every time I refreshed my inbox there was a mail informing me of new followers!

I'd like to think the @Polljack account made a significant difference to that result. And, now that you're up to speed, you'll understand the post I'm going to make on Monday, explaining why our most recent attempt at polljacing wasn't as successful - but why we definitely shouldn't be disheartened.

(And I apologise for the fact that almost all my recent blog posts have been about Twitter. Next month, when I move back to London and start stand-up again, I'll be 500% more interesting. I promise!)

Tom Bower is the journalist who recently won the libel case against Richard Desmond, owner of The Express. He looks like this:



Brian Butterfield is a character from The Peter Serafinowicz Show. Or at least, I thought he was just a character. But now I see their faces, side by side, I've questioned everything I once knew. Everything. Is Tom Bower actually Brian Butterfield? Are they one and the same? Have you ever seen both of them in the same place at the same time? No, neither have I.

THIS IS A COVER-UP. WE NEED ANSWERS. JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED. FOUR MORE YEARS. TAKE OFF EVERY ZIG.

It's only a matter of time before Twitter is bought by bastards. The Guardian report today that there's talk of Rupert Murdoch getting his snout in there, and you can bet your life that all the big media companies have at least pondered an acquisition, and wondered how they would profit.

Profit. That's the thing. No-one yet has found a way to make profit out of Twitter. And to be honest, we should be very grateful. Because you can so easily imagine Murdoch would start charging developers who want to develop Twitter apps, he'd report all protesters to the Iranian police (even if they lived in Cuba), and he'd start up Twitter accounts for characters in 20th Century Fox movies that would follow you and were unblockable. And you would DEFINITELY get adverts in your time line. Whereas Twitter's users would choose to keep it free, retain the open API policies, and to keep the spirit of the site alive.

Now, it could be that Twitter aren't considering selling at all. Perhaps it's safe for a while. But let's talk about a time when they run into some financial difficulties. There are three solutions. First, sell to a big company who can fund it, but who may also ruin it. Second, hope that some benevolent millionaire will come along and just give them a load of money for free to keep it running. Third, start a subscription service. I'd vote for the third, but they've made no attempt to do it so far, so why would they start now? Well, how about this for an option:

In the event that Twitter goes up for sale, we propose that we, the users, buy Twitter, and run it not-for-profit. We ask for a voluntary subscription, which gives you ace new features which don't currently exist, and also allows you to genuinely participate in the decision-making of the site's management and future. Any profit goes straight back into the site. We keep it advert free, we keep it open, and we encourage developers to carry on making their apps. Twitter will be run by the users, for the users, and not to line the pockets of soulless media multinationals.

Let's talk details:

1) We draw up a manifesto in which we declare very clearly that we want to keep the spirit of Twitter alive, that we will always keep it ad-free, and that for as long as we are running it, subscription will never be mandatory, ever. We let The Internets read it and propose changes. When we have a perfect document, we ask people to donate money towards buying Twitter (e.g. £20 GBP / $32 USD / €23 EUR). If we can raise enough, we buy Twitter. If we don't, we could either return the money to the donors, or give it all to one of a few relevant charities (here's a few to be thinking about).

2) A small collective run the not-for-profit company. We don't make the big decisions - those are decided by the subscribers, and more on that later - but we put the decisions into practice, maintain the infrastructure, and try to promote the site in a positive way. At least some of those people will be full-time employees; others might work part-time or freelance. In practice, Twitter will be owned by a company which belongs to a small group of people, but high levels of transparency and democracy, and community-based decision-making will reassure users that we all own Twitter.

3) In the first year, everyone who donated gets upgraded to a new 'members' account for a year, which could give added customisability and extra features. People who didn't donate can still buy one of these. After that, people re-subscribe on a yearly basis. These features must NOT be the sort of features that already exist. Instead, they should be super-awesome extras which will make Twitter nicer to use. I'm thinking along the lines of:

- The option to choose from a selection of your own user icons with each post, instead of just the one.
- The option to have HTML on your user profile instead of just a picture. Would be good for bands and performers, links to CDs for sale etc.
- A larger selection of pre-made profile designs.
- A larger character limit in the user profile. Seriously, why limit that to 140 characters as well?
- Custom following lists, so you don't miss tweets from your nearest and dearest (many apps do this already, but it'd be nice to have it on the site).
- The ability to post 'locked' tweets, either only to people who follow you, or only to people you're following, or even to a small selection of those people, like LiveJournal does with the custom friends groups. Would be useful for organising events.
- The ability to report spammers without having to follow the @spam account (though really I'd be happy to make this feature free to everyone).
- The option to include location information within a tweet, ie. not part of the 140 character limit.

I think features like this will inspire people to pay, and thus to keep the service alive. And I do think that Twitter users are the sort of people who will pay. I've read of marketing studies which are admittedly mostly anecdotal, but they suggest that users of Twitter tend to be 18 or over. So the users of Twitter have a bit of cash to spend, as opposed to most of the users of Bebo, for example.

But as well as getting people to pay in exchange for great extras, I also want to make the subscribers a part of the decision-making process itself.

Every six months, we could have a general meeting in London which is fully streamed over the net, and allows people to participate in deciding how things are going. Is the service reliable? Too slow? Can we improve it with the money we have? Any suggestions for new features? Shall we make it 100% open source? Anyone got any new code they want to donate? These are the sort of things we'll put open to the vote. We can tell everyone at all times how much money is in the bank so that our subscribers have the information to make informed decisions. We put the big things like that out to the vote, and we action it as best we can.

What we don't do is let it bankrupt us ethically. We make it clear that if we ever go significantly into the red, we will sell it to anyone who isn't called Rupert Murdoch, and who will promise to look after the site, not introduce adverts etc. Even we do sell, the sale has to be approved by the members. We tell them "we either sell or we shut down. Tell us what you want, and that's what we'll do."

This is all quite vague in my mind at the moment, but what do you think? Any flaws? Impossible in practice? Would you stump up a donation? Would you buy a paid account? If so, how much would you be willing to pay for a year's subscription? If you're interested, please flesh out ideas/correct me/suggest alternatives in the comments. Remember, if you don't have a LiveJournal blog, you can still comment anonymously, or using OpenID if you have a Wordpress/Blogger account.


(Huge thanks to @schiaparelli for her insightful suggestions and improvements to this idea. You can follow me here: @chris_coltrane.)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Panasonic-SL-1210MK5EB-1210MK5EB-Turntable-Black/dp/B00009RIOE/

Skip down the page to the second of the two reviews, and you'll find this little gem. Needless to say, I am sold.

"This is an absolutley pukka ting ya no. The decks are the most jamming things avaliable on the market today. I got a pair i boiught off me aunty maud 4 years ago and da is still going booooom ting bredrean. Trust me on this one if you want live decks and big up respects buy this decks, you hear me all. Pitch control respect, torque respect, looks respect, needles respect, direct respect. Big up all massive"

There's so much to love about this review, but more than anything - he bought a part of decks off his aunty Maud? Amazing. LITERALLY amazing.

There aren't enough aunties who are also Jamaican dub DJs.

About half a year ago, I joined the Green Party. I'm ashamed to say that I haven't been at all active, for reasons far too dull to document here, but I've tried to keep abreast of the important developments, and I swing a tenner their way each month. In a few months time, when my life will be far more tranquil, I had planned to get much more involved, to go to meetings, take to the streets, help get the message out, and really get my hands dirty.

Actually, the dirty hands bit is just because I've seen a nice bit of clay in someone's back garden, and I'm going to nick it. It's got nothing to do with politics. But forget about that, it's of no consequence to anything.

A lot of things attracted me to the Greens. For a start, their leader, Caroline Lucas, is a remarkable, passionate and convincing woman, a genuine inspiration who refuses to weaken her ideals for populist gain - and nowadays, how many politicians can you truly say that about? Any party leader who actively recommends non-violent demonstrations and peaceful law-breaking gets a thumbs up from me.

And the core policies of the party, while sometimes overly optimistic, still align themselves very much with mine. The idea of kick-starting the economy by employing people to install free insulation in houses, and investing massively in green energy, while breaking up big banks, increasing the minimum wage, and most importantly of all to me, having economic policies which favour people and the planet over the free market - all of these things excite me. On top of that, they genuinely want to close off tax havens and tax loopholes, they'll look after public transport and take care of the elderly, they want to reverse the privatisation of the NHS, give free dental healthcare, and they're firmly against tuition fees and City Academies and Trust Schools. All in all, I've found a hell of a lot to like about the Greens.

But in recent days I've been feeling rather queasy, as some of my favourite science blogs have dug deep into the Green manifesto and uncovered all sorts of things which would make any pro-science liberal despair. As far as I'm aware, the recent round of blogging was inspired by a study done between the people behind The Lay Scientist and Science Punk, who sent all the parties ten questions on various matters of scientific importance - and the responses from the Greens were generally quite concerning. Take the astonishing limitations on research on embryonic stem cells ("We would work for an immediate international ban on all cloning and genetic manipulation of embryos, whether for research, therapeutic or reproductive purposes"), or the insistence that alternative and complimentary medicine (including homeopathy) should be free on the NHS, or the fact that they would ban any genetically engineered organism from entering the UK, which as Gimpy mentions could have very dire consequences for scientific research. There's plenty more besides which will definitely surprise you.

This has really troubled me. I agree with them on so many issues, I think their heart is absolutely in the right place, and I think they are one of the few - perhaps the only - party which can honestly say that it puts the idea of people before profit at its heart. They match my point of view precisely on so many issues. And yet on something so utterly fundamental to my beliefs, such as evidence-based medicine, they fail completely and utterly. My distress over this was so acute that I was genuinely considering cancelling my membership, and not voting Green at the election.

So imagine how heartened I felt today while reading Twitter. Ben Goldacre made a post saying "It's such a huge shame that the Greens have to be morons about science: sigh http://rly.cc/BjJ1r". He then followed up with "to be clear, even tho green party are infantile on quackery, embryo research, animal expts, etc they might still be worth a punt." Sian Berry, the Green candidate for London Mayor, tweeted him back saying "we're against embryo research? When did that happen? Bad science audit of GP policy well overdue I'm afraid but will be done", to which Ben replied "sadly true http://tr.im/ngsz happy to help with bad science audit of green sci policy, ps i actually love you." Which I think is very sweet, though maybe my positive bias for the people involved gives me rose tinted glasses which can't quite focus on the cheesiness of that last line!

Anyway, to my delight, Sian replied to Ben saying "excellent! (re bad science audit) will duly pester for help..." - and then she replied to a tweet I sent her where I expressed how happy this made me, where she said "I've been thinking about it for ages, being a bit of a scientist and that, but always too busy. Not after Friday tho..."

As it stands at the moment, the Green's scientific policies range from progressive and solid to ill considered to actively damaging. For a party that is trying to gain power, this is definitely something which should cause grave concern. The Greens are no longer on the far fringes, and at this stage of the game their policies should have at least been given the once-over by a few scientists of note.

But at the same time, I've got to hand it to them... when their policies are criticised, they put their hands up and say "fair enough". This is amazing, and quite unprecedented in 21st century politics. Sian Berry is a very important member of the party, and if she can turn around and say "that's a fair comment, we need an audit of our policy", then that already makes her, and the party, far more reasonable than any of the other parties currently standing. Can you imagine Jacqui Smith, when she was at the Home Office, ever saying to people who criticised Labour's policy on 42 days detention "Well, you might have a point about all this civil liberties business. Could you pop in next week for a chat about it?" It's so unrealistic that the idea of Jacqui Smith doing such a thing almost makes you want to laugh.

I agree with an awful lot of what the Greens say. At present, I also think that the Greens have a fair number of problems with their manifesto. But just as Ben Goldacre says, I think they might still be worth a punt. I could cancel my membership and have a bit of a strop about how there's no-one that represents precisely what I believe in - as us lot on the left are often so tempted to do. But instead, I'm going to vote Green tomorrow, and I'm going to stay in the party. I'm going to go along to the next big conference, and I'm going to try to do what I can to change things for the better. I'll get involved in debates, and try to get my voice across - in a small party, I think this will be something that is at leat vaguely possible. If it doesn't do any good, I can re-assess all of this at the time. But for now, I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt.

And if Sian really does take Ben up on that offer, then I think that the Greens will not only be better for it, but will gain a great deal of credibility for being thoughtful, transparent, honest and decent. And Christ knows how desperately we need a political party like that.

I will never forget the time that I laughed the hardest, ever in my life. I laughed so hard that I genuinely thought I might die, because I couldn't breathe in. I was only about 12, and I don't think I'll ever laugh quite so hard again.

It was at a single joke in an episode of Sooty and Co. Matthew, Sooty and the gang decide that not enough people are coming to their shop, so Matthew asks everyone to make a different type of advert. Soo records a radio spot, Sooty and Scampi produce a TV ad, and Sweep is charged with the job of making a banner, saying "Come to Sooty's Shop". Arguably the easiest job of all. He's cut out all the letters - now all he needs to do is put them in the right order. But he can't even do that.

Sweep has three attempts. The first two are quite amusing; the third was so brilliant that it was almost responsible for a tragically young death. The video is below; skip to 4.10, and watch to the end.



"Cos tooty poo smesh" became a running catchphrase in my family from that day, and even now, more than ten years on, it is still perfectly acceptable to say "cos tooty poo smesh" instead of "hello" as you walk through the door. I hope that you will also adopt this phrase into your lexicon with as much ease as we did, all those years ago.

The second part of the episode is here. I love the fact that they don't bother changing the banner, but instead they take it on tour with them around town. And I'm glad that this is on YouTube, so now a new generation of youngsters can have an equal chance of laughing so hard that they almost expire.

I've been on Twitter for about a month now.

At first I couldn't see what the fuss was about, but after a bit of tinkering I decided that the best way to use it was to be selective about who I followed, and to make sure that I was only updating it with the type of things which I would want to read (interesting links, news etc). Entering into a conversation with someone about shower gel was quite an eye-opener for how dull my posts can be unless I actively try to fight it!

Now that I'm using Twitter in a way that I find useful, I really like it. But I definitely think there's room for improvement. I've made a list of things that I'd change if I could, and I'd be really interested to hear what you think. Please tell me if you can think of any others, and please also feel free to tell me why you disagree with any/all of my points.


1) Change the character limit from 140 to 200. This is probably the one that people will disagree with the most, especially people who have been using it for longer than I have. I'm fed up with having to rewrite Tweets into txt spk, just so they fit into the space. How was the 140 character limit decided upon anyway? Did they work out the average character length of a sentence, or was 140 just chosen arbitrary? Why not 130? Why not 150?

1.5) People often comment on the fact that Twitter doesn't actually seem to make any money, on account of the lack of advertising etc. Why not allow people to post 200 character posts if they pay, for example, £10 a year? I'd happily pay for Twitter if the price was reasonable and it guaranteed an advert-free service. I'm sure other people would too. If ever Twitter looks at the bank balance and sees "$30 million out, $0 in", maybe this would be a good idea.

2) "@(username)," "RT:" and the first hashtag in a tweet shouldn't be part of the character limit. Especially because it means that all good/important tweets actually have to be less than 140 letters long, to accommodate for the fact that people who want to RT your tweets have to insert that extra text.

3) Twitter should detect hashtags and link to the search.twitter.com results. It seems silly that if I want to see who else is using a tag, I have to go to search.twitter.com and type the tag in, instead of just clicking on it.

4) There should be a button to report spam Twitter accounts! Why should I have to follow a spam bot (@spam) and direct message it with a spammer's username? Seems a trifle long-winded.

5) It would be interesting if Twitter could analyse the text in your Tweet before posting, and suggest hashtags based on popular searches/tags of the moment.

6) Haven't thought the logistics of this one through properly yet, but it would be awesome if tweets (esp. from phones) could include location info, so you can see on a map where people are tweeting from/who is tweeting near you. Could work with geotag info from phones, or based roughly on IP location from computers (though that wouldn't be terribly accurate). Would be brill for finding people twittering from protests etc, so people could immediately see everyone who is tweeting from a certain place. Naturally this wouldn't be part of the text of a tweet, just something that is stored behind the scenes. If that screws up the existing architecture too much, perhaps the location info could be sent by the phone/web client as a second tweet immediately after the first one, but with a rarely used ASCII character at the start to tell Twitter to use it for location info rather than as part of a normal Twitter feed.


So, am I right? Am I wrong? Am I handsome and wonderful? Feel free to let me know all of your opinions. ALL OF THEM.

I've told Twitter, I've told Facebook, and now I shall tell you: yesterday I had laser eye surgery, and it was a complete success!

The results are absolutely outstanding. It's unreal to think that I had the operation just 26 hours ago, and yet already I have 20/20 vision when using both eyes. Over the next few months, my vision should become even sharper. I'm overwhelmed with joy, I've barely stopped smiling since I came out of the surgery room!

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I had Intralase LASIK with Wavefront, which to slightly over-simplify means that the operation was totally blade free, and that the operation takes into account the actual shape of my eye, as opposed to what they describe as a "one size fits all" approach. As far as I'm aware, it's the very best treatment that you can currently get - and I got it half price!

The actual operation was fine, but it almost didn't happen. I had my consultation on Tuesday with Optimax in Reading. When they analysed my results, they said that my cornea was ever-so-slightly too thin. It has to be 500 microns thick to make the right cut, and mine were 490 on one reading, and 510 on another! The consultant showed me an alternative treatment, with an animation which looked like someone taking an old man's shaving blade to the surface of my eye. She said that the operation, which is apparently called Epi-LASEK, takes a lot longer to heal, and can hurt more, and then to encourage me further she quoted me a price which was a thousand pounds more than the treatment I wanted. I told her that I wasn't interested. It was either the treatment I was booked for, or nothing. She tried to convince me, but I stayed firm. And after a bit of chat, she said that there was a possibility that the surgeon might perform the operation, but we wouldn't know until the day.

So I go in the next day for the operation. The surgeon takes one look at my notes and says "yes, this will be absolutely fine", in a tone that suggests that in his mind there was never any doubt that it couldn't be performed. Lol!

My surgeon was so awesome. His name is Dr. Ayoubi, he looks like this, and I cannot recommend him enough. He was kind, patient, and did an absolutely expert job. As I sat down for the operation, he said to me "Don't worry, I've done this ten thousand and one hundred times." Which as reassurances go, has to be among the best. Actually, they gave me a leaflet with a bit about his history, and it's awe-inspiring. He's been performing the operation for as long as it has existed, he's had research papers published, and he's travelled the world to do his work. It was an honour to meet him - I simply cannot believe my luck that I had such a great man working on my eyes. It was a privilege.

To my amazement, I genuinely wasn't nervous until the moment the nurse told me that it was my turn. As she led me into the theatre, I suddenly thought to myself "Oh Christ, what have I agreed to?!" - but I need not have worried. I genuinely felt nothing at all on my eyes from the surgery. Not a single thing. Having said that, they put clamps over my eye to hold them open, and they hurt like a bastard! Not on the eye, but they really dug into the bone just underneath my eyebrows. And that was really uncomfortable, BUT it's only for about 3 minutes in each eye, so who cares. So, what actually happens? Well, after the clamps go on, the machines power up. They're loud, they sound as if they're about to pump out a laser which could destroy Tokyo, and they smell dreadful. I'm going to assume (and hope) that the smell is from the laser itself, rather than the smell of my burning corneas. But there is ridiculously little to say about the operation itself. They shine one red light into each eye in turn, then there's a pause, then they shine a different red light into each eye, and it's all done! In and out in five minutes, ten minutes max. There's no bandages over the eyes or any of that, you just pop on some shades, keep your eyes moist with eye-drops, and then you're on your way home!

I was able to see quite clearly as soon as I left the building, and I was fine until I got into my Mum's car, when I found my eyes suddenly becoming much more sensitive to light, so I put my coat over my head for the journey home, and then sat in the dark for a few hours. I'd planned ahead and set up a playlist of old Chris Morris Radio 1 shows, which was a wise move. Even while I was recovering, my eyes didn't "hurt" at any point. For the first 4 hours I found it hard to open my eyes for the eye drops, but by nightfall I was walking around the house with my shades on and my eyes open, with only the very slightest feeling of discomfort. I went back today to have my eyes checked, and they've confirmed that the whole operation was absolutely textbook. I can see perfectly, I don't even need my shades around the house (though I'm wearing them anyway just to be safe), and already my vision is 20/20.

This is going to be life-changing. Now, when I look up, I can see even the faintest wisp in the clouds. When I look down, I can see the cracks in the pavement. When I look at trees in the distance, I can see individual leaves fluttering in the wind. I can see birds gliding through the sky with a remarkable clarity. I can see words with ease, I can see measurements with an acute precision - and to think that over time my vision is going to get clearer still! The feeling of confidence and satisfaction in actually being able to see is extraordinary.

If you're thinking of having it done yourself, I simply cannot encourage you enough. I would definitely recommend Optimax, (I think you get £500 off if you say I did) and I would especially recommend Dr. Ayoubi. I sincerely believe that all the money in the world could not buy you a better and more understanding doctor. He is peerless, among the very best. I don't know if it's possible to request particular doctors, but if you can have Dr Ayoubi, you will be in the presence of greatness, and you will not need to worry about a single thing. If he has a fan-club, I will be its most devoted member; if he has a newsletter, I would read it twice.. Do every single thing that you possibly can to have the operation performed by Dr Ayoubi, a most extraordinary surgeon. I will be eternally grateful to him for the work he has performed on me, and for the gift of sight that he has given me.

Optimax themselves were a good company to work with, but the confusion about whether I'd be suitable for the operation cannot pass without mention. I understand completely that the consultants are not surgeons themselves, and although they're highly knowledgeable it's ultimately up to the person doing the operation but when the consultant saw my results, she was initially quite insistent that I wouldn't be able to have the operation I wanted. She spoke in terms of "not possible" instead of "maybe possible". It was only when I told her that I wasn't interested in Epi-LASEK that she said "there's a borderline chance that the surgeon might do it". If she'd said at the start "I don't think you'll be able to have it done, but let's see what the surgeon says", then I wouldn't have had a problem.

I must stress that I genuinely do understand how and why such a thing can happen. The consultant has my safety in mind, and you can imagine the trouble that would be caused if she had recommended me for a surgery which wasn't safe. So I am glad that she was cautious, and I'm grateful that she was thinking of the health of my eyes instead of just giving me what I wanted. But considering how confident the surgeon was the following day that I could have it done, I think it's quite a notable mistake, especially as I could have ended up paying a thousand pounds more for increased soreness and a longer recovery time.

So I honestly would recommend Optimax, but I would also say that if they say it's not possible, wait to hear those words from the surgeon. If you're considering having it done, and you've any questions, then please feel free to ask me, I'll be happy to tell you more about my experience.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things to look at!

Image of laser eye surgery taken from Stephen Baack's Flickr.

http://londonist.com/2009/03/opinionist_god_hates_fags_-_coming.php

I made a few Twitter posts recently about my anger at the Westboro Baptist Church, and their plans to protest outside a primary school in London. To my delight, Matt from Londonist asked me to write up an opinion piece. I jumped at the chance, and have included a little bit about Stephen Green for good measure. The link is above, hope you enjoy it!

(Though I'm not too sure what my opinions are on the way that our blogging software has chosen to name the URL. "God Hates Fags Coming" isn't exactly what I would have chosen...)

PS Comments always make me happy, but if you do comment, I'd be most grateful if you did it on the Londonist post. :)

In case you didn't know, a whistle-blower has revealed that Barclays have been avoiding a metric fuck-ton of tax by moving $16.25bn through a series of highly convoluted, though entirely legal, tax havens. Says The Guardian: "Tax benefits were to be generated by an elaborate circuit of Cayman islands companies, US partnerships and Luxembourg subsidiaries."

They also reported that 'The chancellor, Alastair Darling, told parliament: "I have asked HM Revenue & Customs to publish... a draft code of practice on taxation for the banking sector – so that banks will comply not just with the letter but the spirit of the law."'

Which on the surface of it, sounds quite reasonable. Following the spirit of the law is a fine aim. But there is a problem with the chancellor's comments which he perhaps doesn't understand.

This requires clarification. The general opinion of most right-minded people is that legal tax avoidance on this scale (let's not allow them to win the war of language -- the phrase "tax efficiency" is far too forgiving) is abhorrent, especially when some of those very same companies, like RBS, turn to the tax payer for a bailout. The idea that the poor pay full tax while the super-rich can avoid paying millions of pounds is, in the minds of many, unacceptable. The spirit of the people of Britain is anti-tax havens, that much is clear.

But as much as we'd like to think that the "spirit of the law" says that using tax havens is wrong, what the spirit of the law actually seems to say is this: "Dear boy, if you can find a way around all that ghastly tax business, then by all means, be my guest!"

The briefest glance at the financial industry proves that this is the case. For Christ's sake, there are financial advisers and organisations in this country whose sole purpose is to advise companies how best to legally avoid paying tax! If such avoidance of tax were truly going against the spirit of the law, something would be done about their existence.

Because you just can't imagine such organisations being allowed to help people break any other law. For example, can you imagine hearing about someone whose job it is to advise a company about legal ways of refusing to employ women, and calling it "gender efficiency"? Or can you fathom of a legal firm whose job is to advise potential murderers on the wisest way to legally commit their crime, labelling such a practice "life expectancy efficiency"? Or can you, in the darkest parts of your mind, conceive of an organisation being allowed to specialise in advice to companies on legal loopholes which might allow someone to hold another human being as a slave, under the title of "human rights efficiency"? After all, in all these cases, the discrimination, the murder and the slavery would be entirely legal. That's the whole point. They wouldn't be following the spirit of the law, but the letter of the law would be fully abided by. Yet you can't for a second imagine that such people would remain in employment for very long.

The only way financial advisers can be allowed to specialise in helping companies, non-doms and assorted billionaires from avoiding tax is if the "spirit of the law" not only knows about their work, but gives them its tacit blessing, with a nod and a wink and a smug, sly smile, and trebles all round for the old boys in the members' bar.

If Alistair Darling -- who, in case he's forgotten, is the fucking chancellor -- wants businesses to stop using tax havens, then I expect there's a quite considerable amount that he could actually do about it. Instead of vague moral arguments about respecting the spirit of the law, he could work on making the letter of the law impossible to misinterpret. Close off the loopholes. Make it absolutely clear that if you live in this country or do business in this country, then you pay tax in this country. If it truly becomes illegal to avoid paying tax, then also make it a crime to advise companies on ways of avoiding tax; let's call them co-conspirators to the crime. And if any companies or businessmen threaten to leave the country if we don't bend over backwards to let them be more "tax efficient", if they threaten to take their products and their experience and their expertise elsewhere, then I will gladly pay for their taxi to the airport. I'm sure we'll get by without them.

Barclays branch photo taken from Ambrosiana Pictures' Flickr stream.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2009/mar/06/mandelson-green-slime-protest

"Lord Mandelson was hit in the face with a cup of green slime by an anti-airport protester as he arrived to attend a low-carbon energy summit in central London this morning... Mandelson described the incident as an "adolescent protest".

That's unfortunate, because I would describe the incident as "bloody hilarious", and I'd describe the girl, who is named as Leila Deen, as a "genius".

Oh, and I'd also describe Lord Mandelson as a "dickhead". But then I always was quite naturally poetic.