Does my MP actually exist?

Because I live in inner London, my MP, Jim Dowd, is untouched by the second homes expenses storm. That's a pity. It might make him slightly interesting. I've just looked at his website to see if he has any comment to make. Nah. On the latest news page there's a generic labour story about what it's doing for the economy. Jim's contribution appears to have been to paste in the words "Bromley and Lewisham". The story isn't really news at all, is it, Jim? Maybe that's why there's no date on it. Let's look at the more general news.

Jim has shown his support for whales. Good for Jim. Again, no clue when this was. Second item: he's visited a day centre in Sydenham. Sometime. Moving down, he's angry with Boris Johnson for scrapping the Tramlink extension to Crystal Palace. He's so angry he says:

[Boris] shows that he has no leadership skills, but then again he is not a Londoner, and the people of South East London can only be truly grateful that he was around when the difficult decisions regarding the extension of the East London Line was made.

Not quite what you meant, Jim, but why bother proof-reading? I can't imagine anyone but me - suffering from early Sunday morning insomnia - ever reads this.

But, as before, not a clue as to when these things happened. Jim could have had a very busy day yesterday, or he could have done nothing for months.

OK, Jim may not have his fingers in the till, but he's still being paid an awful lot to turn up and vote as the party tells him. For all I know he may be a very good constituency member, solving constituents' problems brilliantly. But the evidence - on a site that he has total control over - is that he's doing nothing. Either that or he's the world's worst communicator.

And now I'm nearly crying with bitterness and contempt, as I've found a link to New article / blog entry / news. Imagine my anticipation as I clicked on it. Undated, again, here's the full entry:

I spent the morning with members of Perry Vale Safer Neighbourhood Team on a walk about in the ward.

Jim, no-one can be quite this useless. I think the kindest conclusion is that you don't actually exist. Sometime between 1997 and now, you just dwindled away. First, you stopped casting a shadow. Your voice went next. You became blurry around the edges, slightly transparent, and one day - pop! - you just disappeared.

Freedom of information (2)

I wrote about this subject back in February, comparing evil govt's treatment of itself and of other people.

I don't wish to add another rant to the current round of ranting. The world doesn't need that. But do wish to refer to this brilliant article in today's Guardian. It seems like journalists are now more trustworthy than politicians. (Apart from that Greek bloke, of course.)

I love Lucy

This is another post about readers' comments on humourous columnists.

I've posted earlier about my liking for the writing of Lucy Mangan, and the link to it is still sitting over there --> (hope this doesn't bugger up any html).

She's recently been given a different brief in the Saturday Guardian. Rather than writing about life with Toryboy, and her overstatedly eccentric (but all too recognisable) family, she is now a kind of postironic agony aunt. I wasn't sure about this, but today's entry is just brilliant. Beginning with a 12 year old's plea, Help! One of my friends is a creationist she spins a wonderful web of language, urging a sceptical patience, while never losing sight of the absurdity of creationism.

To me, it's a brilliant piece of comic writing. But not everyone agrees. Someone called Kepler writes:

There is nothing more condescending than a self righteous Darwinist.

Maybe your fiend has something to teach YOU.

(I love the freudian slip there). Comedy and humour are notoriously subjective, but this guy (let's assume, as always) doesn't seem to realise he's just been offered any. Even stranger, three people (at the time I'm writing) have recommended this.

Oh well, the next post is friendlier. At the time I'm writing six people have recommended it. (Take that, Kepler!) What wit and brilliance in such a few lines! It's almost as if I had written it myself.



(By the way, isn't Kepler a strange alias for someone who appears to be somewhat anti-science?)

Who'd want to steal *my* identity?

So last night I got a text from Tmobile saying thank you for ordering a new line: this is now set up. Wha?

So today I phoned tmob and after five minutes navigating their menu system - which has never! given me an option that's exactly what I want - found out that someone, pretending to be me, has ordered a Blackberry Curve, which is already on its way to be delivered to my address. And that someone has presumably used my tmob password, and presumably too is confident that they can intercept the delivery. My tmob password isn't very secure* but I can't understand how anyone would have got hold of it. Even the tmob advisers sounded confused how this had happened. I had to explain that, although I've heard of blackberrys I have never heard of a Curve. Well, the tmob people were nice and will send me the return envelope for the unwanted item, but I'm suddenly paranoid, checking my online banking several times a day, and wondering if my postie's a crook (apart from being a redrubberband litterer).

More news on this as it happens. And meanwhile, if anyone wants a cheap Blackberry Curve ...


*six letters, no numbers, no special characters. I've changed it now.

Charlton 4 Norwich 2

So at least we took someone down with us, and two unfamiliar emotions were aroused. First: sympathy for another set of fans. The Naarj fans were terrific. They'd sold out their allocation and a few undercover canaries were in the west stand among us. For about 10 minutes they were strongly behind the team - responding at last to Delia's 'let's be having you!'. And word clearly went round that Barnsley were losing and the shouts got louder before Charlton's first goal silenced them. By half time Charlton were 3-0 up. Just after halftime should have happened, Norwich got a goal back from a corner, defended in the way that Charlton have built into a trend this season. Second half saw Charlton mentally sitting around the pool after the 3 goal lead had been re-established (Deon Burton getting an implausible hat trick), and a better team than Norwich would have taken advantage. Fortunately, Norwich were only as good as Norwich. The haunted look on the canaries' faces among us was like a mirror.

Second unfamiliar emotion: joy. We'd taken a three goal lead and against all the odds, won. It was probably a very important result for the club, financially. It must have made a few waverers (me included) decide to let hope triumph over experience and renew the season ticket.

Norwich were bookies' favourites to win today, on the basis that when a team really really needs to win they can play better than they've given any evidence of doing all season. So forty quid on Charlton at 5/2 puts a profit of £100 in my betfair account.

All in all, a good day. Now I need something else to blog about. If not, catch up in August.

Charlton 0 Second Division 1

So the inevitable has done what the inevitable does, and Charlton are in the third division next season. Today's game was the whole season in miniature. Charlton were miles better than Blackpool, and should have had the game won by halftime. They definitely should have had the game won after 10 minutes of the second half, when two goals in one minute seemed to have won it.

But they got slack. Blackpool's first goal was started by a poor pass from Zheng Zhi that gave the ball away. And in the third minute of extra time (and you could spend all day searching the match to find where those three minutes came from) Blackpool scored the goal that meant relegation was inevitable, whatever the scores elsewhere were. (And, as it happened, scores elsewhere meant that even if we'd won, we'd still be relegated.)

I found myself thinking why are this lot staying up when they're clearly rubbish? Obviously because they never give up, and they take their chances. If you're going to be rubbish, as Charlton have often been, you have to be rubbish with conviction.

Oh well, as another blog has put it, the rebuilding begins here.

Charlton 0 Birmingham 0

Another goalless draw, another pointless point. Another really dull first half. Charlton again playing 4-5-1 with the increasingly lacklustre Tresor Kandol supposedly providing a target and Jonjo Shelvey running off him. No surprise there, but it was surprising how uninterested Birmingham seemed in winning the game. They've got a big impressive squad, with lots of recognisable names, but maybe they're all getting on a bit. Lee Bowyer, for example, is a shadow of the player he once was (and in some ways that's a good thing). It's an expensive squad too, and if they don't get promotion, they'll be in trouble.

Second half was much better, lively and open, but as time went on you'd have thought that Charlton were the team going for promotion. Maik Taylor was by far the busier keeper, and right at the end he managed a magical reflex save to deny Charlton the points they - on the whole - deserved. Perhaps we were at last seeing what this team could have done if Zheng Zhi and Therry Racon had been fit all season and if - a bigger if - the managers had not destroyed the team's confidence and coherence with all the loans and the team changes.

Someone apparently was collecting nominations for player of the year. It's hard to think of one. I'm tempted to vote for Yassin Moutaouakil, another player completely destroyed in the course of this awful season.