The linked article explains really well what this change entails (short version: not much for many websites, as nearly everyone will probably already have these kinds of details if not in their footer then almost certainly on a contact or legal info page), but I’ve still got a few burning questions — mostly to do with fairly inane stuff that only web geeks would think of.

Viral marketing, for example. It’s illegal if you don’t say who you are, so no more viral web marketing in the UK (and EU generally?). Crampin’ style since 2007.

This point from the article is interesting, too:

It is not sufficient to include a ‘contact us’ form without also providing an email address and geographic address somewhere easily accessible on the site. A PO Box is unlikely to suffice as a geographic address; but a registered office address would. If the business is a company, the registered office address must be included.

Say hello, email scraping harvesters. I realise that with filters improving this is theoretically becoming less of a problem, but even so — very few filtering providers are up to the standard of Gmail (usually the poster child for “Feel free to post your email address on the web” experiments), and are unlikely to become such in the near future.

If you’re a sole trader, I imagine you don’t have to list your home address, as you’re not considered a company. IANAL and IANAL who lives in the UK, but if the terminology is the same as in .au (which, given our common heritage, I’d imagine it wouldn’t be far from), that seems to be the logical interpretation.

If the business is a member of a trade or professional association, membership details, including any registration number, should be provided.

That seems… very hazy. If it means entities such as ICAA, that’s nearly fair enough, but for organisations like that membership is individual, not corporate. Same goes for trade unions, etc. The only equivalent I can think of here might be something like CRICOS provider numbers for educational institutions providing services to overseas students — though there are probably other examples one could give.

Perhaps our government has become more liberal than that of the UK, but, even so, it seems a rather odd stipulation. For electricians you might have green licenses and so forth — but, again, that is administered at an individual level, so you’re only really effectively getting this information out of sole traders: it seems unrealistic for larger organisations to publish this type of information.

Given the surprise it seems to have taken people by (the OUT-LAW publication is dated 20th December 2006 at the time of access), it seems unlikely that it will ever be very strictly enforced, and appears to be EU-associated politicking more than any intentioned policy. Some of its stipulations offer something in the way of consumer protection, but, really, if consumers aren’t already on the look out for this sort of information (or lack thereof) when participating in the web, then education in this regard should be far higher on the agenda than legislative measures. But perhaps that’s just my inner liberal getting cranky.

An illustrated conversation with Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, the leader of the Roman Catholic Church in England and Wales, exploring his penetrating insights on the Church’s role in a post modern, multicultural and secular Britain.

For broadcast on Compass: Pilgrim Cormac. Sunday 15 October at 22:15 on ABC TV, Fridays at 9.05am, 4.30pm, 7.30pm and 9.45pm on ABC2 (Digital only, IIRC)

I heard a radio promo for this last night and it sounds really interesting/bizarre. One of the things Murphy-O’Connor is reputedly arguing is that the “Parish” concept is too large/impersonal for the unchurched (they didn’t use that word, I wouldn’t normally either, but I’ve been reading too many reformed missional blogs/websites of late and it’s starting to become a part of my vocabulary, for better or worse), postmodern-influenced, secularised British person. Accordingly, he is (apparently, again without having seen the programme) advocating a new approach/structure of fellowship centred around meeting in people’s homes/more casually. One (presumably significant) part of this is for prayer and bible study.

Which is exciting, to say the least.

Apparently there are only 4 million people who call themselves Roman Catholics that Cormac Murphy-O’Connor has the responsibility of serving (this is in England and Wales: 50– and 3-million population respectively), which has probably contributed some impetus to reform. This idea that smaller groups are better for fellowship (jargon for meeting together and talking) than larger bodies is in interesting contrast with large (chiefly Pentacostal) churches that don’t seem to have (publicly) popped up in the UK particularly lots. British cultural thing? Roman-Catholic church thing? It’s hard to tell.

Certainly it would seem that there are senses in which belonging to a larger community can be of equal value to small groups… and in which small groups prevent the potential detachment of larger ‘community’. But it’s especially interesting that a church defined by its centrality of leadership and centuries-old adherence to structure defined by Tradition (capital T as in defined by Roman church, not tradition as derived from the bible) over Scripture is apparently moving back to meeting privately, possibly (probably, given clergy shortages and so forth) consisting wholly of lay people, reading God’s word and praying together. One can only wonder what this means for tradition-bound non-Biblical practices such as confession.

Maybe I’m just thinking wishfully. It’s been a week of Roman Catholic outreach-ish stuff at Uni and there are some really bizarre things that keep cropping up. The ‘problem’ (it is a problem, I’m just hesitant to call it that because I know people are going to be offended… as though the rest of this post were completely innocuous) of Roman Catholicism isn’t going away any more than liberal Christianity and false teachers.

But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction.
–2 Peter 2:1

Keep praying.

Also, one mustn’t make the mistake of confusing antiquity as lineage. MH’s first lecture drew attention to ‘the whirlpool of European races’ in Dracula’s third chapter (though I wasn’t at the lecture, it’s online in Powerpoint format) which, notably, refers only to continental European influences. There is preserved an irrevocable distinction between ‘Europe’ (which, it seems, is an old power without the same sense of embracing modernity — notably Germany and Russia are generally ignored in this text) and ‘England’ (even including America, by a character link).

Helsing is still ‘other’. His otherness is not that of cheap laughs, but of blended encounters with savage forces lurking further to the East. (IMO, of course :))

Scene 4 in Act 2 of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline affords us a great deal that is of interest when examining the development of romance narrative throughout time.

This portion of the play is a scene — just in case, you know, everyone doesn’t, ah, remember what the reading was — a scene in which Posthumus is in the house of Philario, discussing the present political situation that exists between Rome and England. As Penny Gay mentioned in her second lecture on Cymbeline, there’s a certain departure from history at this point. We are made aware that there is trouble brewing over the cessation of the payment of tributes to Rome, and, in Posthumus’ words, “this will prove a war”.

It’s unabashed nationalism, completely shameless, and written in such a way that a contemporary audience would thoroughly approve: “You shall hear/ The legions now in Gallia sooner landed/In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings/Of any penny tribute paid.” O’Neill would, however, have us call this something other than the re-writing of History.

It is the construction of a fictional world — a fictional world that, it should be said, bears some mark of reality… but a fictional one nonetheless. In fiction, as O’Neill explains, everything is contingent upon nothing aside from the whim of the author; that term, of course, extending to include “playwright”, “poet”, and all other manner of narrative-creator.

So in this fictional world, against this backdrop of political turmoil, Iachimo enters. He enters amidst Posthumus’ nationalistic outbursts, and it almost appears as though Posthumus doesn’t realise the issue at hand has altered, so unfaltering is his courage in his spouse, as with his nation.

“I hope the briefness of your answer made/The speediness of your return.” — he could well be speaking of an emissary’s rebuttal at the hands of a foreign power demanding tribute. There is something diaphanous about the edges of these themes, as though Shakespeare has feathered them together intentionally. Our conception of “state” is quite different from that of marriage, but perhaps there is something to be made of the way in which they are together, here. I think it possible that we are being invited to examine Posthumus against expectations of what befits a “good” husband, specifically with regards to his leadership qualities. As a potential statesman, Posthumus has not yet been thoroughly disqualified. That comes in the scene following this, wherein he throws a hysterical, misogynistic, tempter tantrum.

I consider this juxtaposition of political and relational discussion something that is meant to connect the two in our minds: Posthumus is, afterall, being evaluated not only as the condemning husband of Imogen, but also as a potential ruler of the state. His aptitude for both roles is seriously brought into question throughout this play: and often through the same events.

In an environment of ironic crudity, the supposed elite of Renaissance Europe gather in Philario’s house, jesting about the constancy of, in particular, Posthumus’ wife Imogen. Posthumus is agreeably confident in his wife’s fidelity, but, somewhat less agreeably, willing to subject her to the approaches of one Iachimo. In concluding their wager, Posthumus declares:

Only, thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon her, and give me directly to understand you have prevail’d, I am no further your enemy; she is not worth our debate : if she remain unseduc’d, you not making it appear otherwise, for your ill opinion, and the assault you have made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your sword.

This doesn’t take too much unpacking. In the case that Iachimo succeeds, Posthumus explicitly says “I am no further your enemy”. Back in Act II Scene IV, Iachimo is speaking of the particulars of Imogen’s chamber, and says he must speak in greater detail to justify his knowledge. Posthumus agrees, stating: “So they must,/Or do your honour injury”. There is a concern here for Iachimo’s honour even amidst his defamation of Posthumus’ wife. Again, on line 124, Posthumus responds to Philario’s rational suggestion that a corrupt servant may have taken a token on Iachimo’s behalf, saying “I am sure/ She would not lose it : her attendants are/ All sworn and honourable”.

Sworn and honourable, in fact, beyond the honour of his wife? Apparently, in Posthumus’ mind, this is true.

All this has a fantastic irony about it, as it serves both to critique Posthumus as leader, and as husband. The two are inseparable; Posthumus has failed in ways a Renaissance man is not permitted to fail, demonstrating his crudity, his lack of faith, his inability to lead responsibly even his wife — in the eyes of the audience, he has failed.

This is realised through a narrative that is calculating in its gradual revelation and construction of the character Posthumus: we see this in the establishment of the wager, Act 1 Scene 4; its continuation as Iachimo slowly unveils his deceit in Act 2 Scene 4, and Posthumus’ propensity to doubt his wife jealously; his tantrum in Act 2 Scene 5; and, later, his ordering her murder; and, later still, his groveling repentance rather unlike Iachimo’s stoic admission of guilt. Iachimo is, in some respects, an anti-Posthumus. He is calculating, not impulsive; cunning, not deceived; and orchestrator of much action with regards to Posthumus’ relationship with Imogen: he leads their relationship, whilst Posthumus is (falsely) led.

This should not be taken to mean that Iachimo is a paragon of great leadership — this is, afterall, a comedy in a world suspended between historical fact and Renaissance discourse. There is scope for some degree of reflexivity within this play, as Shakespeare pokes fun at his own characters, using others to delineate their foibles and propel the narrative towards its inevitable, genre-defined, close: poetic justice.

cat-scan 1.0 is out. Which is great news. Won’t post too much about it here, but definitely worth a look if previous versions have seemed like too much hassle to setup or whatever.

What’s not quite such great news is that Ben’s gone to the UK for a year. Well, great news if you’re in the UK, I guess :P Either way, he’s got a shiny new blog up and running to tell us all about it. Or something. I’m meant to do him a non-default-WP template for it sometime, but… well, going on my current rate-of-achievement, that’ll be sometime before he gets back ;-) Nope, not going to be any more specific :P

If anyone else was wondering what the image for the 1.0 launch announcement post was, yes, we do have shirts. Or rather, Ben does, and it’s a bit small, and it was my going away pressie for him :P So now cat-scan is taking over the world in a more literal fashion (hah, fashion). Well… it mightn’t, because Bonds don’t make Medium the same size as everyone else… and it’s probably a little small. Whatever, sorry Ben! Enjoy the singlet!

In other news… I think Katy left to Honduras for 3 weeks on a short-term mission sometime today, which is pretty exciting. Hopefully will hear all about it from her when she gets back and stuff.

I’m sure I missed a load of various things, but I need to go sleep so that’ll have to do for the time being.

There is, however, something that would probably make me want to run more. This ridiculously cool GPS training device! It’s like… hey… you’re a geek. And you want to run. With gimmicks that are arguably useful. Buy me, buy me!

Somehow, though, at $US330ish plus shipping, I don’t think it’s going to happen. The solution? Start jogging with a backpack and take a car GPS unit (already have one)!

Yeah, not terribly likely, either. Ah well. Hopefully The Trip to New Zealand coming up (have I mentioned that online yet? Geez… maybe not… how bad) will serve to kinda remedy the whole lack-of-exercise situation and create a habit for when I get back. If I haven’t mentioned that on this site before (I don’t remember doing that, I don’t think I have), then… consider this notice. I’m going to NZ from Saturday the 12^th of November until Monday the 5^th of December. Tori leaves to go to England on November 10, so that’ll be distraction enough after finishing the exams and just before packing… and hopefully NZ will be enough of a distraction for me to not realise she’s on the other side of the planet for a while (and vice versa, I imagine…)

I’m planning on taking lots of photos, but haven’t decided which camera to take yet. Or, more accurately, how many I will take. I’m definitely planning on taking my Pentax SP500 w/ 28-70mm lens, but don’t know whether my little Pentax qualifies. I can see it either getting broken or full very quickly. Contemplating getting a harddrive-based reader thingo (something like this HD-DM40 from Anyware, about $215 from a retailer), but quite uncertain. It’s just more stuff to carry in a backpack that’s already going to be substantially full.

Plus, as I’ve told some people before, I like film grain. It looks nice. Far nicer than digital compression artifacts or the sensor crapping out in low light conditions. One of Hayley’s photos on year12.joahua.com demonstrates this nicely, because it’s not a good photo, but it’s very nice and characterful… mostly, I think, because it was shot on film not digital.

So, I can live with my own inability to use a camera perfectly meaning I get a handful of blurry shots, and it costing a little more to get photos developed/make mistakes. The question is, should I have a secondary camera for quick photos that I can check the quality of immediately, just in case? I could probably drop my SP500 in water and it’d survive after a [probably quite expensive] service… I can’t say the same thing for the digital. Funnily enough, the tiny digital would ultimately take up nearly as much space as the chunky SLR, because it would mean I’d be carrying a charger for its batteries, a hard drive, and a charger for the hard drive, as well as the camera itself. I could just not use the hard drive and try to find a net cafe, but that’s something I’d rather not rely on. I could also buy another SD card or two before we leave… which is a distinct possibility, given how cheap those things are getting (I saw a 256MB card for under $30 yesterday, and wasn’t even looking. 512MB cards can be had for under $50). Problematically, they’re absolutely tiny and I can just see myself losing one.

Suggestions, anyone?

Just a quick link. I’d love it if the newspaper actually provided links to the various papers mentioned. I’m no huge fan of the “celebrity as an object of study” thing, but snippets of this article stir [my] interest.

The only parts of any value to me in this article are in relation to the connection between media focus and our society — surmised in two short quotations from the piece:

Explaining how Beckham’s career has been littered with Christian symbolism, Brick said redemption, resurrection, and salvation “are the narratives that tell his story”. The footballer’s perception of himself seems to concur: he has appeared in magazines adopting a Christ-like pose, has a crucifix tattoo and named one of his sons Cruz, Spanish for cross.

But Brick’s paper said reading Beckham as postmodern religious icon, a new god of the global consumer culture, was insufficient. “Rather, Beckham’s celebrity speaks to the paradoxical desire to attribute meaning in a culture which is increasingly defined as meaningless…”

Paul McDonald, from Roehampton University in England, pointed out that at the start of last century, press profiles concentrated on political, business and religious leaders, “yet by the 1920s, the focus of that attention had shifted toward coverage of figures in entertainment or sports”. The media’s attention had moved from the idols of production towards idols of consumption.

Still, it’s worth reading the whole article to contextualise those snippets.

Because I haven’t got time to come up with content solely for this website at the minute. 1645 words.

Nineteenth century composers bring the plight of the individual to the responder’s awareness through their portrayal of such characters in a way that appeals to the responder either through the use of empathy, or, in the case of other works, through the use of a rising/falling conflict model in conjunction with elucidatory dialogue to elicit a response from the responder.

Henrik Ibsen’s play Ghosts uses the latter model, making use of clever expositions presented by character in order to force readers to question the society in which they find themselves, and their roles as individuals within that framework. An encompassing work, Ghosts has been criticised as being “a little bare, hard, austere”, in which Ibsen has conformed too much to the prosaic ideal and stifled his poetic nature – and, in this, become an author who “cares more for ideas and doctrine than for human beings.” Ironically, it is this portrayal of such ideas and doctrine that, for many, makes this work one of overwhelming humanity.

The model employed by Ibsen here renders characterisation superfluous – his characters are not bound to a single person, to a single individual, but are seen to represent any number of people individually within humanity. Having said this, Ibsen’s works do not generally support the notion of a universal common humanity in which beliefs are shared, drawing a distinction between the “outposts”, the ruling classes, and the “compact majority” – and there is no reason to suppose he deviates from this understanding in Ghosts.

Rather than being a character-driven book, in which empathy is used to endear a protagonist to the responder, Ibsen’s characters are somewhat flat and undeveloped, although in their behaviours, established through dialogue and stage directions, as well as their interactions, they are portrayed as being in conflict. Pastor Manders embodies the oppressive, hypocritical nature of religion – he is more concerned for the appeasement of those who would criticise his lack of faith than he is for the practicality of insurance – a practicality he recognises, but advises against for “the attacks that would assuredly be made upon me in certain papers and periodicals”.

The gullibility of this character with regard to Jacob Engstrand’s nature is not simply that, but rather a reflection of the blindness of religion to many aspects of individual natures within society as a whole – Ibsen comments on the irrelevance of religion in the limited characterisation of Manders, and then further delineates this irrelevance through the conflict introduced between various characters and this figure.

Yet Manders is not simply the representative of the church. Within Ibsen’s model of society, Manders wields a ruling influence from which the “compact majority” draw their values and belief systems. The critique is not only one of the religious establishment, but is inclusive of the state and legal systems – something reflected in the injustices portrayed in A Doll’s House. The accusation levied against such institutions is one of aloofness – Ibsen proposes such institutions are distant from the individual, and cannot adequately comprehend their needs. The epitome of this is his support of euthanasia in the closing scene of the play – a something wholly unacceptable within that society, and similarly open to question in this age. Ibsen argues in favour of this, the closing scene of the play being emotive in its stark nature and eloquent stage directions. The work concludes almost poetically, with Oswald mindlessly repeating a phrase, as his mother, Mrs. Alving, grows hysterical at what he has asked her to do – and the responder can empathise with both figures, neither of which have been understood by the establishment. In establishing such a dichotomy between the state and the individual, the plight of the individual in a collective sense – that is, humanity as a collection of individuals – is brought to the consciousness of the responder.

Empathy is limited as a result of (deliberately) restricted characterisation, but Ibsen’s purpose is still achieved in this work, though perhaps without the nuance of his other works. An Enemy of the People, also by Ibsen, draws a distinction not between the state and the individual, but rather between those on the “outposts” and the common people. It is not, however, solely a work of philosophical self-gratification.

In this instance, the denunciation is instead of the failure of society as a whole to hear any message contradictory to its desires, irrespective of what evils this may require, and similarly without regard for the sustainability of such a stance. The pollution, Dr. Thomas Stockmann argues, is not simply of the baths, but of society. He declares at a public meeting that he has discovered “all the sources of our moral life are poisoned and that the whole fabric of our civic community is founded on the pestiferous soil of falsehood.”

Such blatancy is not wholly uncharacteristic of Ibsen, his career being one of the more controversial of the great nineteenth century playwrights – undoubtedly also as a result of his popularity. Yet the point remains as an ostracised individual shouts his disillusionment and chagrin with society in this play, a point common to each of his five prose plays, composed from 1877, and termed by Ibsen the “drama of ideas”.

The context in which it was written must also be considered, quite apart from the period in time in which these works were composed. Ibsen’s plays were performed to audiences all across Europe, and resistance to these works varied from active censorship in Prussia (unified Germany) and England, to passive censorship – the play was eighteen months old before a theatre agreed to produce it – to public and media criticism. Ibsen’s plays attacked many aspects of the establishment, and, by his own acknowledgement, point to nihilism as an inherent human condition for many people, leading to their turmoil during the play, and subsequent social demise (or, more optimistically, their emancipation) at its conclusion.

France was perhaps one of the more liberal nations in Europe at this time, with the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century perhaps having the most effect upon their state. The subsequent revolutions that had swept across France had created a pervasive progressive mood, but there remained a societal structure rather in accordance with Ibsen’s portrayal of it, albeit with the addition of a middle class supportive of more liberal ideals. This notion of ‘class’ was, for many of the French people, a remnant of a time past which numerous revolutions had failed to abolish – or, more accurately, class distinctions. Artists such as Gustave Courbet criticised this continuing societal rift towards the middle of the century, through the portrayal of alms-giving. His work was not unique in this theme, with other artists such as Bonvin and Pils creating works depicting the same action in the same year, but Courbet’s The Village Maidens Giving Alms to a Guardian of Cattle (or The Village Maidens, 1852.) is unique in the manner it portrays such an act. The work is “an unvarnished, enormous and most unwelcome reminder of class distinctions in the provinces – a reminder that all was not smiling peasantry and reassuring folklore in Franche-Comté, but that there too, the petty bourgeoisie was setting itself apart from the, now threatening, proletariat – and furthermore, with the artist’s own sisters, clad in contemporary bonnets and dresses, rather than regional folk costume, playing the role of moneyed beneficience.”¹ This was, for the middle-classes of Paris, a rather unwelcome reflection of themselves that they sought to avoid recognition of.

The theme of such charity is continued in another of Courbet’s works, Beggar’s Alms (1868), which portrays a beggar granting a young boy a coin – significant, relative to the beggar’s means. The plight of the individual in both these works is portrayed as being of little consequence in an uncaring society – the poor are required to care for the poor, as an indifferent bourgeoisie continues life unburdened.

Burdening of the individual is another theme common to many works of the nineteenth century critical of society, a key example of this being Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles. The protagonist of this text, Tess Durbeyfield (or d’Urberville), bears the sin of a man who goes on unhindered by his act, unaware of its consequence, until he again meets Tess some years later, leading to his demise. Her marriage to Angel Clare is an unqualified failure, despite her continuing devotion to him until, finally, under the weight of her desperation, hope of his return elapses and she is compelled to reside with Alec d’Urberville in order to support her mother and siblings.

Without a husband, Tess d’Urberville is ‘incomplete’ – she is incapable, in the society in which she finds herself, of living independently, as a result of the expectations placed upon her. Society has caused this circumstance through the patriarchal expectation of ‘purity’ falling solely upon a woman with no means of recourse – Alec d’Urberville may be viewed as a motif of oppression rather than an actual character, as his persona is developed by its elements, rather than explicit characterisation. Conversely, Angel Clare is extensively developed so he is endeared in the mind of the responder, such that he exists as an individual as does Tess – his individual actions being guided by his own failure to meet society’s expectations (his lack of religious convictions), but he remains in conflict with this as he leaves Tess whom it is quite clear he loves from his unconscious actions on the first night of their marriage.

Ultimately, Hardy’s protagonist’s plight is the tragic consequence of a sin against her held by society to be a fault of her own. The responder is brought to value the protagonist as an individual in such a conflict through Hardy’s endearing portrayal of her in accordance with the first model outlined at the beginning of this critical essay, and it is thus that an awareness of her plight is raised.

¹ Nochlin, L. Realism. Penguin, 1971. Page 124.

It’s marked as being 20 amp, but it’s only got three cores in a sort of quasi-3 phase connector (I think there’s a word/brand for that which I should know but don’t) which is missing two cores. The closest thing I’ve found is a forum posting (second post from bottom on page) which claims these are used for single-phase staging/event gear at least in the UK (they use the same voltages as Australia, I think), with 63A, 32A and 16A varieties available (connectors are physically different sizes, and coloured blue to mark them as single phase, as opposed to the conventionally red/orange 3 phase connectors). I assume that the Clipsal labelling of the socket as 20A simply refers to the maximum socket load rather than what the device behind the socket is happy driving… but maybe not.

Anyone seen these things before?

“Unless you’re a pretty big cybergeek, people are generally happy to watch it on TV,” said an executive at one UK broadcaster who asked to remain anonymous.

Nevertheless, Hollywood is not standing by idly. Fearful of a repeat of the rampant downloading that crippled the music industry, the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) has forced the closure of several sites that provide the links needed to download movies and television shows.

In my previous post on piracy-related issues, I talked about the inadequacy of staggered global release policies in an environment in which consumer sovereignty exists to the point where this staggered release system is completely irrelevant, and serves only to promote and give additional cause for piracy. We’re seeing exactly the same issue with staggered television episode release, too.

Succinct version: The UK broadcaster executive labelling the issue as being niche and only for “pretty big cybergeek[s]” is horribly, horribly naïve and generally misguided, making him/her more than a little bit the fool.

Not-so-succinct version: They’re horribly wrong, and I’ve got anecdotal and other evidence to conclusively prove him so. Really. Admittedly, anecdotal evidence which is drawn from a smaller spectrum of society, but it’s indicative of a greater problem to come (teenage culture representing an “early adopter” market within the field of consumer electronics and technology), which cannot be simply ignored in the way that it appears broadcasters have ignored this.

Today a group of people at school were talking about the TV show “Desperate Housewives”, and someone said words to the effect of “I wish I knew what happened next week, this is addictive TV!” (apparently most of Australia would agree with them, as evident from the statistics posted on Steve’s weblog). That’s far less interesting in and of itself than what came next – a comment along the lines of “Oh, in the US they’re up to [some other season or something], I’ve already seen them”, coupled with an offer to plot-spoil for other watchers of the series. Which isn’t exactly something the networks need to worry about – plot spoilers rarely would actually deter someone from spending an hour (or 47 minutes, given the 13 minute advertising restriction in that timeslot in Australia, if I recall correctly – someone might care to clarify as a matter of trivia?) watching a programme they enjoy, even if it makes little to no difference to them in terms of plot revelation.

The more significant part of this comment is of course that this person had actually seen these episodes, and context which direct quotation can’t convey – this person is a TV addict, but they’re hardly a “geek extraordinaire”, which is important in criticising this executive’s statements. The person who’d seen the episode was hardly the only one, either, although the only instance that immediately springs to mind as being noteworthy.

A slightly more removed example from this is from a few months back, relating to those piratical-problem-children, university students from an institution that shall remain unnamed. Episodes from the entire first season of The OC, long before we were too far into it here in Australia. On a laptop, downloaded from Peer-to-Peer, by an arts student with a moderate (and I mean very moderate!) IT bent… nobody ever try and say that using peer-to-peer is beyond the scope of any average teenager or university student!

Which is, of course, exactly what this executive was suggesting – that downloading content that isn’t available by other means is something solely restricted to geeky people. It’s not. And until this fact is recognised by networks, they can enjoy watching their advertising revenue fall as viewers enjoy ad-free downloaded captures of programmes not yet even released in this country – all of which could be circumvented through studios permitting and supporting simultaneous International content release, because realistically “global premiere rights” don’t offer anything aside from marketing appeal, as the audience can’t just hop continents in order to view it on a competing network (that’s an issue for another decade, when real-time video streaming becomes as prolific as audio streams are today… although competition with traditional radio networks is only just beginning to become apparent in the US, with the advent of dedicated wireless streaming services), but they CAN wait 24 hours to view an ad-free capture of the same programme via the Internet if they’re patient, or if the programme isn’t available in their locale.

The executive wasn’t completely wrong. People are happy to watch things on TV. The only issue with that is that TV must be showing the content that people want to watch – that’s long been a recognised fact, but perhaps not so much in the timing of this content delivery… now, it has to be on a schedule which leaves the audience no alternative which is desirable (because TV itself is easier to use than peer-to-peer downloading).

This document covers part of the Board of Studies point regarding the role and goals of Clemenceau, Lloyd George and Wilson at the Paris (Versailles) Peace Conference.

The 1919 Paris Peace Conference was conducted at the Palace of Versailles shortly – some would argue too shortly – after the conclusion of the First World War. The participants of this conference included then-British Prime Minister Lloyd George, his French counterpart, Premier Clemenceau, Italian President Orlando and US President Wilson. The defeated powers lacked representation at this conference.

The British Prime Minister, Lloyd George, had been elected on the basis of his (party’s) slogans, such as “Make Germany pay”, and “Hang the Kaiser”. His actions were restricted by the public expectation, and the divided support of the Liberal Party and Conservatives in Britain, which had forced his dependence upon the Conservatives, despite holding a considerable majority for his coalition in December 1918. Popular support of a “harsh” peace against Germany was one of the leading factors behind his election, and this political insecurity domestically constrained his ability to negotiate.

French Premier, Clemenceau, similarly favoured a harsh peace, although the motivation differed from that held by Lloyd George and Britain.

Clemenceau, a figure who entered French politics in 1870, witnessed the defeat of France in the Franco-Prussian war soon after this entry. This event may be seen as a catalyst for the establishment of his anti-German sentiments which are so prevalent at the conclusion of the First World War, specifically, manifested at the Paris Peace Conference, in which Clemenceau was unyielding in his calls and demands for heavy reparations against Germany, and, ultimately, for the complete destruction of Germany both in an economic and military sense. The notion of a peace that would permit Germany any degree of self-determination in the years to follow was, to Clemenceau, something unacceptable.

Despite his misgivings against the German state, however, Clemenceau recognised the impossibility of achieving the utter destruction of Germany, regardless as to how much himself and the people he represented may desire this outcome. Having said that, the “peace” process presented an opportunity to France by which Germany could be temporarily neutered, both militarily and economically, allowing France at least a temporary reprieve, during which it could enjoy and exploit trade opportunities (amongst other things) which would not have been possible if Germany’s greater population and economic capabilities were permitted to flourish as their full potential would permit them to (as had previously been the case).

It was understood that such an advantage would only be temporary; whilst Germany could be weakened, it was only a matter of time before the nation reasserted itself, through the re-establishment of its economy, which Clemenceau desired to hinder by harsh reparations, and by the size of the population of Germany which would make this re-establishment possible.

For two reasons, then, it is clear exactly why Clemenceau desired the outcome he did: for France, a severe burden placed upon Germany by way of reparation terms would result not only in the financial support necessary for the reconstruction of post-World War One France – it would, perhaps just as importantly, hold Germany down, permitting the French people greater economic advantage in the years to come.

Clemenceau’s demands were clearly against those consistent with the ideals of a “just peace”, something that was clearly not in accord with Wilson’s fourteen points. Clemenceau, fully aware of this, said of Wilson’s points:

“Mr. Wilson bores me with his Fourteen Points. Why, Almighty God has only Ten Commandments!”

– Clemenceau regarded the fourteen points as contradictory to his goals, and the goals of his country.

Not that dissimilarly, Lloyd George likewise conflicted with Wilson’s Fourteen Points and the notion of a “just peace”, although his behaviours during the Peace Conference were significantly less anti-German than those exhibited by his French counterpart, Clemenceau.

Lloyd George’s goals are commonly surmised in five specific points upon which he wished to gain a concession from other participating parties. These concessions relate to:

1. The destruction of the German fleet;
2. The destruction of the German colonial empire;
3. An increase in British colonial interests and possessions, specifically those in the Middle East for the purposes of attaining oil resources;
4. The re-establishment of European trade, which had been interrupted by the war, and;
5. The prevention of any country, including France – or especially France – from dominating Europe.

The last point is perhaps the most significant, and conveys the misgivings held by Lloyd George towards the motive and activities of France even at the beginning of the Peace Conference.

Points one and two are in accordance with Clemenceau’s demands: the destruction of the German fleet is a move toward the destruction of Germany’s military capacity (albeit in a sphere which Britain wishes to dominate), and the destruction of colonial satellites under Germany’s possession assists both in the diminishing of the influence and power of the German empire, whilst simultaneously having a negative economic impact (although not an impact as severe as Clemenceau would desire) upon Germany.

Point three, relating to the expansion of British colonial interests, can be seen as another motive behind Lloyd George’s support of the destruction of Germany’s colonial possessions: by attaining more colonies through the reparations levied against Germany.

Lloyd George’s fourth point, pertaining to the re-establishment of trade, is in contradiction to Clemenceau’s goals of utterly crushing the German nation in an economic sense; the ‘re-establishment of trade’ encompasses trade with Germany, also.

Britain had become increasingly suspicious of the motives of France, and the final concession Lloyd George wished to achieve ensured that France’s position could not become one of negative dominance over Europe.

Both Lloyd George and Clemenceau aimed at an outcome beneficial only to their interests, showing little concern for the notion put forward by Wilson of a “just peace”. This, combined with the timing of the conference so soon after the war, and the location of the conference – Versailles, centre of anti-German sentiment – lead to an outcome which was unable to simultaneously appease Germany and quell French security fears.

• McCallum, Anne, Evidence of War: Studying the First World War through Sources. Rigby Heinemenn, 1996.
• O’Brien, Carolyn and Merritt, Alan, 1914–1918: The World at War. Heinemann Educational, 1991.
• Guest, Vic, Eshuys, Joe and Lawrence, Judith, World War I: Causes, Course and Consequences. Macmillan Education, 1990.
• “Aftermath of World War I” Wikipedia. 2004.
  Accessed 14 Nov. 2004 <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aftermath_of_World_War_I>.