Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
Spanish life is not always likeable but it is compellingly loveable.
- Christopher Howse: 'A Pilgrim in Spain'*
Note: This is a normal post. I’ve also posted today Richard Ford’s (lengthy and colourful) description of a bullfight. Which can be seen here . . .
Covid
The UK: Britain must learn from Sweden on how to live with coronavirus until the “cavalry” of a vaccine or mass-testing arrives, says the professor of epidemiology at Edinburgh University. Not a universal view, of course.
Spain: An interesting consequence.
Living La Vida Loca in Spain/Galicia
I can't say I can follow this Madrid v Cataluña saga. Or perhaps I just lack interest.
The folk at the Lerez end of (now famous?) O Burgo bridge are worried about a wild boar that's taken to wandering around their streets. I can attest to its presence, as it ran in front of my car there the other night.
The British pianist, James Rhodes, has been at it again - ingratiating himself with us provincials . . . At a recent Education Forum in Vigo, he recalled how 3 years ago he moved from London to Barcelona and how he got to know Galicia thanks to his best friend, a Galician actor. Such is his romance with this region and its gastronomy, one of his desires is to have an apartment next to the beach here. "I feel more at home here than in Catalonia, as if in a previous life I was Galician," he said. His other desires are to learn to speak Spanish with greater perfection; that the works of the Madrid-Galicia AVE are finished; that he obtains Spanish nationality; that he marries his girlfriend; and that he continues playing and travelling. Well, at least we share a dream about a high speed train service to Madrid. As always, now scheduled for 'next year'. As it has been since I arrived here exactly 19 years ago.
María's Falling Back chronicle Days 14, 15 and 16
The UK
Fines for failing to observing quarantine on returning from abroad . . . As of the middle of September, there had been a grand total of 34.
The USA
The clearest loser from the first presidential debate between Donald Trump and Joe Biden was America. In fact, last night was not a debate in any meaningful sense. It was an ill-tempered and at times incomprehensible squabble between two angry septuagenarians who palpably loathe each other. Chris Wallace, the experienced and respected moderator, was utterly overwhelmed in his forlorn attempts to bring order to the exchanges and to stop the candidates, especially Mr Trump, speaking out of turn. So, no surprises there. Which is why I didn't even think about watching it.
The Way of the World
Transgenderism: See the 1st article below. Having had a tomboy daughter who went through 'a phase' I can easily agree with the writer's strictures on current developments
Smartphones: See the 2nd article below for UK fears.
Finally . . .
TV ads seem more nauseating than ever:
- Hellmans' (for vegetarian mayo): We're on the side of food.
- Kellogs: We are breakfast.
ARTICLES
It’s madness to tell tomboys they’re living in the wrong body. The Department for Education's new guidance marks a rare victory for common sense in the ongoing war on gender: Melanie McDonagh
There is one thing – just the one, alas – I have in common with Angelina Jolie and that is we both have a daughter who used to dress like a boy. No pink, no frills, no sparkles, no unicorns, no princesses. I was delighted; if there’s one thing that brings out my inner Herod, it’s a Disney princess. Apparently Angelina was cool with it too.
Not just that, my daughter for most of her time in primary school gave girls a miss. She hung out with boys and I recall a couple of birthday parties where she invited no girls whatever. In my daughter’s case – I don’t know about Angelina’s – it passed, sort of. She’s at a girl’s school, has a crush on Timothee Chalamet and gets on well with her own sex. She still doesn’t do fluffy pencil cases and would rather be dead than pink but she’s found that there are others out there just like her. She was, and is, a tomboy. It’s just as well, really, that we didn’t bring her to the Tavistock clinic before puberty set in so she could think about what gender she should be identifying with.And thank God, the Government seems to be taking the same position.
The Department for Education issued guidance to schools on Friday to say that “you should not not reinforce harmful stereotypes, for instance by suggesting that children might be a different gender based on their personality and interests, or the clothes they prefer to wear … Materials which suggest that non-conformity to gender stereotypes should be seen as synonymous with having a different gender identity should not be used…” This is stark, raving common sense – which comes as a gratifying surprise. Last year the Department said ominously that “Gender identity should be explored at a timely point”. Why? My own view is that if the question weren’t raised at all there would be far fewer children seeking gender reassignment at places like the NHS Gender Identity Development Service in Hampstead, which is seeing lots more children looking to change sex.
It may be that some individuals looking at changing gender are attracted to their own sex. Or maybe they’re just non-conformists. Our obsession with categories – trans, non-binary, asexual – is insanely, dangerously reductionist. A tomboy is a girl who rejects girly habits. It doesn’t mean she’s trapped in a female body. I’d say it makes her more fun than someone who dots her i’s with little hearts and has unicorn birthday cakes.
The patron saint of the tomboy is obviously George from the Famous Five – I remain baffled why Enid Blyton isn’t on that account the pinup of the diversity brigade. She introduced herself thus: “I shall only answer if you call me George. I hate being a girl. I won’t be. I don’t like doing the things that girls do. I like doing the things that boys do … You’re to call me George. Then I’ll speak to you.”
And the embodiment of the corresponding tendency for boys who like to be in touch with their sensitive side is Basil Fotherington-Thomas from the immortal Molesworth books, he who danced round saying “Hello Clouds, Hello Sky” and who Molesworth calls a “gurl”. He was terrifically at ease with himself though.
Nowadays we’d be rushing Basil and George to the Gender Reassignment Clinic before they could say Little Lord Fauntleroy. How about just letting them do their own thing in their own way?
2. Our smartphones have turned into ID cards by stealth: Ross Bryan
Your right to remain a Luddite is quietly being eroded. We are, as Elon Musk has said, already at a cyborg-like stage of technological advancement. It’s just that our smartphones have not yet been embedded in our bodies.
Most of us look to phones to tell us where to go and how to do just about everything. And now, thanks to coronavirus, society is beginning to operate on the basis that we are all carrying these devices every minute of the day.
Since the lockdown began, landlords and restaurateurs have been told that apps which let customers book a table and order food and drink are the future. For technology companies, the apps conveniently double as proxy tracking services, given that they record the owner’s contact details. Your information may be shared with “affiliated” or “trusted” partners when all you wanted was a drink.
We are assured that the information we hand over is secure. However, large-scale data hacks are now perennial and a handful of companies hold information on swathes of the population. Furthermore, the coronavirus crisis has increased the likelihood of privacy rules being ignored altogether. In July the government itself admitted to breaking data laws in the development of its test and trace programme.
Our attitude towards personal data has shifted substantially. Fifteen years ago the prospect of national ID cards prompted accusations of Orwellian state surveillance. We didn’t want to be a country where people were told to produce their papers. Look how far we have come.
* A terrible book, by the way. Don't be tempted to buy it, unless you're a very religious Protestant.