corriganreid

Well, not really goodbye.

But farewell to this blog for the time being.

Why?

I'm just too busy running The Scottish Football Blog, working full time and trying to keep certain other projects up and running.

This blog was being neglected and I'd rather just stop it now than keep it going and leave it in stagnation for long periods.

You can still read my football writing at The Scottish Football Blog and keep up to date with my professional stuff at Leith Writing and Editing. 

The BBC is often said to be arrogant and out of touch, treating us, the viewers, with contempt.

Really? Not quite how I see the current "outrage" over EastEnders and the cot death-baby swap storyline.

A few thoughts on the story itself: Have they gone too far? No. I've not got a lot of time for the plot but it's not been dropped into the programme like Bobby Ewing emerging from the shower.

Yes, it relied on coincidences and some far fetched events. But it was a legitimate development in the framework of the storylines and characters involved. This is, after all, fictitious drama.

And that's my first reaction to those that complain: it's not real life and you don't have to watch.

Nobody can have anything but sympathy for mothers who have lost their children but nor should a popular drama be scared to run storylines because of the risk of offending people. Warnings have been given about the content before transmission.

Some people will be genuinely upset by what has been shown. Others should take some responsibility for what they watch rather than immediately adopting victim status the minute something they don't like is broadcast.

As for the BBC? 9000 complaints and, let's say, an average of nine million viewers.

Quick sum: 0.1 percent of the viewers have complained. A tenth of one percent. And that's if we accept every complainant as being a genuine "viewer" rather than a Dacre-sheep following the lead of the Daily Mail.

The BBC changes a storyline because 0.1 percent of viewers complain? That's actually showing contempt for the 99.9 percent of viewers who are making a conscious decision to watch the show without penning a letter to Points of View, or more likely, taking to a completely unrepresenative internet message board to find out exactly how to complain.

0.1 percent of viewers.

I wonder if the Daily Mail would be so quick to change an editorial stance if 2100 "readers" complained. History suggests not.

It's open season on the BBC. And, right now, they don't look like they have the stomach to defend themselves.

There are things you only do when you're drunk. There are things you will only do when you're hungover. I suppose I must now include visiting Pizza Hut as one of the latter after visiting on Sunday lunchtime.

We arrived in search of the hunger bursting all you can eat lunchtime buffet. Not having set foot in a Pizza Hut for at least a decade I was unaware that the deal doesn't run on the Sabbath. Given the deserted restaurant that's maybe a policy that might require a corporate rethink.

Instead we were offered the Weekend Treat Deal: £9 for a main course plus one of starter, sweet or hot drink. We chose starters plus pizzas.

I opted for the Three Cheese Melts described as:

A mouthwatering mix of Italian style cheeses in a light breadcrumb, baked to perfection. Served on a bed of rocket with caramelised onions, chopped tomatoes and a balsamic glaze.

Baked cheese is a hangover cure par excellence and it didn't disappoint from that point of view. The three cheese parcels were indistinguishable and probably wouldn't have reminded an Italian of home but they were adequate. The bed of rocket was nondescript and the balsamic glaze went beyond treacly and ventured towards the road tar.

Brother opted for Texan Barbecue Chicken Wings, an old favourite. This, of course, is what Pizza Hut does well. Remaining the same. Perhaps not inspired but there a times when reliable is more important than inspired. An early Sunday lunch in Hartlepool is one of those times.

We departed from the beaten track when it came to the pizzas. The thing about a Pizza Hut pizza in the past is that they were not really pizza. The Deep Pan versions were molten lumps of dough and cheese, the thin and crispy were limp affairs. The stuffed crust options were simply another vehicle to allow people who don't actually like food to cram as many carbs into a quick sitting as possible.

The Tuscani Pizza is decribed as 'the Hut's' "thinnest, lightest, crispiest base" with a range of rustic toppings. We both took this option. I went for the Pollo Portobello with chicken, mushroom and a pesto and cream sauce. Brother chose Pollo Piccante with chilli peppers, green peppers and a tomato base.

Unfortunately my dish was overpowered by the pesto but the base is certainly the best I've had in Pizza Hut. That's not saying much but marks at least for effort and not making a total hash of it. Brother agreed although I'm not sure the promised fire of the menu materialized with his chillies.

Undeniably, however, Pizza Hut hit a spot that needed hitting. In a time of need the Hut was there, welcoming, friendly, non-judgmental and offering endless refills of Diet Coke. It's a restaurant as imagined by the worst kind of marketing gurus. But they're on to something. As we left, fortified for the day ahead, the place was filling. All shapes, sizes and ages filing in.

Unfortunately the experience tracked me for the rest of the day. Indigestion of the kind I've not had since I started losing weight about 20 months ago was a reminder that the Pizza Hut experience, much like a night out in Hartlepool, is about enjoyment in the here and now and hang the consequences!

Most of us don't. Like it, lump it, we're stuck with the Festival season. The Cavalcade should exist as a thank you for that, if nothing else.

The Kevin Bridges phenomenon has kind of passed me by. I didn't see him in Edinburgh last year and obviously don't watch enough panel shows to have been able to properly chart his rising star over the past 12 months.

So maybe I'm one of the few people to have managed to get a ticket for his sell out run at the Assembly Rooms with no preconceived ideas.

And he's good. It's quick, slick and quite Scottish. A 23 year old probably shouldn't rely so much on remembering his school days but the punchlines are probably strong enough for him to pull it off.

I've heard elsewhere that there maybe wasn't a huge amount of new material here. I've got no way of knowing if that's true but it might have been that he felt safer sticking to reliable routines in last night's preview show. The audience certainly seemed happy enough.

Maybe I did leave feeling a bit short changed though. The hype and clamour for tickets suggests that Bridges is going to be doing something really exciting. He's not. With or without new material this is a tried and tested formula. He's better at it than a lot of people but he's not breaking new ground.

Unlike his ticket sales, on this evidence at least, Kevin Bridges 2010 show is going to be solid without being spectacular.

From the Guardian Edinburgh blog:

I'm very pleased to announce that we've appointed a new beatblogger for Edinburgh – Michael MacLeod.

A lifelong resident of the city currently enjoying life in Leith, Michael will be starting work on this blog in a few weeks time.

Interesting to see how this develops after a bit of a fault start with the launch beatblogger only lasting a few months.

Michael certainly seems to have a background in news. I hope he uses it because the blog has at times come over as a repository for press releases. It seemed at times that companies with a decent Twitter presence - a hint towards their social and new media nous - were a bit over represented on the blog.

The potential, or otherwise, of The Guardian's beatblogging network is still be properly measured.

I suppose the real question is if you feel this site is best served by a traditional player in the media or by new starts offering an alternative to sites like The Guardian.

At the moment I'm not sure Edinburgh is really being all that well served by either option.

So yes, the potential probably is there.

But I don't think anyone, not The Guardian or anyone else, is coming close to getting an Edinburgh news site right just yet.

And still the Labour leadership campaign drags on. And on.

Maybe the lack of a contest for 14 years means the party has forgotten how to run one.

Apart from that freakish breed of young party activists the rest of us are being bludgeoned into a comatose state. If the candidates failed to enthuse at the starting line how are the electorate supposed to feel now that we've still got a month or more to go?

And all the time there is a lack of effective opposition to the coalition.

My interest was raised slightly by this week's New Statesmen.

Here's five answers for you:

Maybe an academic. Teacher. A teacher, or in a leadership team in a school. I guess a journalist. A novelist.

The question, put to each of the leadership candidates was "If you weren't a politican, what would you be?"

Diane Abbott claimed novelist. A nothing answer, given by a woman who, for all her renegade credentials, is as steeped in career politics as the rest. Novelist is the answer you choose if you can't think of anything else but want to suggest a hinterland, an imagination that politics alone can't satisfy.

"I guess a journalist" comes from Andy Burnham. Perhaps the most honest answer - he was a journalist before he became an MP. Although as he became a special advisor in the Labour government at 28, his dedication to the fourth estate was perhaps always questionable.

The dullest answer is probably Ed Miliband. "Maybe an academic." It points to a man at ease with his own intellect. He first suggests that he might have been an actor. But quickly retracts - the shadow of Blair's "all the world's a stage" routine looms large. 

But that route was open to the young Ed. PPE at Oxford, Economics at the LSE. He's no slouch. Academia opened its doors. Instead Ed began working for Labour Party at 24.

The most craven answers come from Milband, D and Ed Balls.

"Teacher" says David. Oxford, MIT, Institute for Public Policy Research, Labour Party. A CV designed to reach the top in politics. Until being asked that question I doubt he'll ever have even considered being a teacher.

Teaching also seems to hold a sudden appeal for Ed Balls. Although he's not even human enough to just say that: "A teacher, or in a leadership team in a school." It takes a frightening level of ambition to not only consider another career but imagine yourself in a promoted post in that career in the very next breath.

When others were becoming teachers Ed was taking a more politicised route: Oxford, Harvard, Financial Times, began working for Gordon Brown at 27. Clearly his evangelical conversion to educating the young came late in life.

A stupid question in a throwaway survey.

But it does say something about the state of the leadership election. At least three of the candidates are running the race they've always felt destined to run. Career politicians are nothing new but they run scared from the label.

And no wonder, as their life experience creates yet more distance between them and the constituency they seek to serve. The disconnect - Labour's greatest failing - is widened.

Worse than that though, teaching was - and is - seen by many as a vocation. Ed Balls and David Miliband didn't share that conviction, never have and never will. They shouldn't cheapen one of our most important professions by using it as cheesy political exercise.

The candidate that said: "I always wanted to come into politics so that I could help teachers" would have won my vote. None of them were brave enough.

> Still not declaring. But: I'll vote for a man. He won't be the frontrunner. He won't be called Balls. 

It says much about the Scottish psyche that these figures will be greeted with as much pride as anguish: Wha's like us? Damn few, and they're all pished.

Expect much talk of minimum pricing over the next few days:

Alcohol sales in the off-trade were double those of licensed premises, accounting for 68% of all Scottish drink sales and retailing at around 43p per unit.

The Scottish Government hasn't tackled this problem with any common sense.

The smoking ban was brought in with good intentions but the consequence was always going to be a hammering of the pub trade. People are staying at home, drinking more for less.

And the new licensing laws are little short of a bad joke. Even the authorities don't really know what to make of them. But the end result is the same. Pubs take the full force of new rules, drinkers can drink more for less at home.

I've been at a couple of meetings about this. The question of supermarket pricing has been raised. The reaction was pretty much a shrug of the shoulders. There is a recognition of the problem but councils are too cash strapped to risk the legal wrath of a supermarket chain.

Will this report change that?

I doubt it. Expect the government to try and push responsibility for tackling the supermarkets to the councils who are too scared and skint to do anything about it.

So we'll all still drink. But we'll do it, perhaps horrifyingly destructively, at home. And the pub trade will continue its slow suffocation as the government watches on.

Made my annual-ish trip to Northumberland last month and enjoyed another excellent meal in Alnwick Gardens' Treehouse restaurant. Spectacular setting, fine food and friendly staff. 

Unfortunately, as ever, I didn't get round to blogging a review at the time. And didn't take notes or anything. So I don't think I can do it justice now.

But a hearty recommendation nonetheless.