Thomas's blog

The G20 summit began today. In London. England. I emphasise this because, according to the Americans, the UK is about the size of Oregon and less important historically to the US than France.

Now, politicians discussing world economic issues is not very entertaining. Imagine the newspapers delight when the police began to ratchet up the tension in the Capital a few days ago. Dead bankers were predicted. People were warned not to wear suits lest they were targetted. The Four Horses of the Apocalypse would ride through London's streets.

Yet in comparison to the Battle of Seattle or the follow-up bout in Italy, today was quiet. A few anarchist thugs smashed up one of the RBS buildings in the City. A couple of police officers got twatted on the head. And some smart-arse bankers goaded protestors by waving wads of money at them. Most people, Russell Brand included, just stood around outside the Bank of England, not doing very much.

That's part of the problem - we're too uncertain and perhaps even polite to host a proper anti-globalisation march. A good smashing up of the City might have proven cathartic. People would feel so much better. Their children could ask them 'Daddy, what did you do during the Banking Depression?' and they could honestly answer, 'Well, dear, I threw some bottles at the police and chanted at them'. If rampant and random destruction was not the aim of the game then those who turned up would have been better off looking for a job to fix our struggling economy.

P.S. those who waved money at the protestors are knobs.

P.P.S. those who caused criminal damage while wearing masks are knobs of pornstar proportions.

There must be something wrong with me. Or wrong with the world. One way or the other, I need an explanation. For years, I've belittled every film that Richard Curtis has put out there. Notting Hill? Not interested. Four Weddings and a Funeral? I was bored after the first casket was lowered. Love Actually? Not a chance.

So why am I so keen to see the Boat That Rocked? The trailer is mighty impressive. The cast is the full platter of gourmet genius. Even the story-line looks like something Spielberg would accept, rather than what Lucas would produce. But it's a Richard Curtis film. So surely it must be about as funny as a sharp pencil in the urethra, and about as moving as Russell Brand complaining about being a sexual lothario? Yet still I'm drawn to it like a retarded moth to a superhot flame.

Wanting to see it is all well and good. But what if I actually enjoy watching it? Could I ever live down the shame?

That got your attention didnt it?

In recent days, the misdemeanours of MPs have dominated newspaper and television headlines. First there was the controversy over the second home allowance claimed by the Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith. Then were the revelations about the Edinburgh MP caught with his trousers down. Next to step into the spotlight was the unemployment minister, Tony McNulty, who had, it emerged, claimed a second home allowance on his parents’ home, a mere 11 miles from Westminster, and even closer to his constituency home. To top off this string of controversies, the Home Secretary’s husband and parliamentary assistant (who some in the press have now dubbed Jack-Off Smith) was found to have downloaded some rather ‘blue’ movies (hence the nickname).

Trust in MPs has plummeted, when it was already at a low ebb after the disgraceful lies over the Iraq War, the Equitable Life shambles, and the backtracking on the promised referendum on the Lisbon Treaty. Throw in the worst recession in decades and the first global contraction in GDP since World War 2 and you can see why politicians currently have about as good a press as Lucifer had when he suggested that God might want to reconsider denying humanity knowledge.

Now please do not misunderstand what follows. I entirely agree that many politicians have had their snouts in the trough. In the good years, when the economy was booming, politicians shared in the growth. Their salaries dwarf those of their constituents. Their holidays are as generous as those enjoyed by teachers. But the recent hysteria has been completely out of proportion.

The newspapers are mostly to blame. Some journalists have a poor grasp on basic arithmetic and seem to fail to understand what MPs allowances actually pay for. MPs have generous allowances but to claim that these are part of their salary, as the Mirror and Sun did today, is plain daft. An MP has two or three members of full-time staff. Staff are paid for from the MP’s staffing allowance. An MP sends out many letters on parliamentary paper and in parliamentary envelopes. Such office costs are paid for from the MP’s stationary allowance.

Well over two-thirds of most MPs allowances are claimed for basic administration. To include MPs staffing allowances in calculations of their allowance claims as though it was part of some inherent greed is like condemning the chief executive of a business for paying for his secretary through the company.

People are scared by the current economic news (again, not helped by the hysterical reporting of Sky and the BBC). They are angry that the good times have stopped and want someone to blame. The excesses of the banking sector make them an easy target. The ineffectuality of MPs at dealing with the recession has led to anger being redirected at them.

Reform of the system is needed. The rules over second home allowances and MPs travel costs need to be overhauled. But MPs need to be able to do their jobs of representing their constituents and holding the Government to account. If we listen to the cries of the media and the phone-ins, then we'll be in danger of throwing out the baby with the bath water. Or opting for castration rather than warning that it makes you blind.

Woah there. That's a big claim to be making right there. Like Jesus saying he's no longer interested in the meek, or Dylan saying he's no longer keen on folk (oh wait...).

Today was the day I finally lost interest in elite football. Or more truthfully, lost interest in the people who run the game. Tony Adams gets 16 games at Portsmouth, is forced to sell his two best players (Defoe and the Prince), and is given so little money that he has to play David Nugent on a regular basis. Equally as bad, Scolari, a world-cup winner and one of the biggest names in world football management, has 7 months at a Chelsea that was already past its best when Mourinho was sacked. And he too told was that there was no money left.

Both these managers are honest hard-workers, who will be successful elsewhere, in other leagues and for other teams. But the Premiership now looks ridiculous, a mickey mouse league worse than the MLS, where money is the only commodity that counts, and where commitment, passion, and dedication are all sacrificed to short-term success.

In all this, do not forget the role of the fans. Nobody is going to give Chelsea or Portsmouth fans any praise for being the shiniest spanners in the toolbox. But to be calling for your manager to be sacked when you're team is 4th in the league, or was 5 minutes away from beating Liverpool, is plain old nonsense. A pox on both their houses.

And I hope David Moyes uses common sense and stays put at Everton, a club which is reaping the rewards of trusting a manager and backing him even through the tough times. Most clubs could learn a lesson.

After many months away from the blogsphere, I'm going to start trying to make a more regular contribution to the hallowed site that is modestmango.

(Also, in these two paragraphs I can completely refute the charge labelled against me by MJ that I've not posted a blog in 6 months)