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Saturday, January 13, 2018

Cultural Adventures

It's crazy to think of what people think of me as a Hullite now compared to a couple of years ago.

Prior to Hull being the UK's City Of Culture, most people would have had me down as some kind of cultural oaf - yet now, Hull is synonymous with cultural offerings, and of course, being from Hull means that one is now highly regarded in cultural matters.

People from Reading are proud to have a new burger made in their honour.  People from Hull are proud to now be regarded as exemplary custodians of culture.

Whilst Hull may now be the centre of culture in the UK, London still has a few offerings, and I have been on my adventures recently.

Starting with Russian protest art at the Saatchi Gallery in Chelsea (thanks for the election wins, by the way).

It included features on Pussy Riot, Oleg Kulik and Pyotr Pavlensky, whom I am sure that you are all aware of - Oleg being the man who "artistically" acted as a dog, Pyotr being the man of stunts such as nailing his bollocks to the ground on Red Square in Moscow - ouch.

Alongside these were some rather defecating depictions of world leaders.

 
 

Jeez what the hell is going on with the layout?  That's why I don't start new blogs on Blogger.  Anyway...

There were also some cardboard boxes.  I like boxes.  Which is pretty useful working for a storage company.


Much better layout.  Speaking of design, I then also went to the Design Museum in Kensington.  In terms of the building, I really like what they had done - but it did seem quite a waste of space.

The actual exhibitions were rather crammed and badly designed - often with no logical flow.

It was of mild interest to see the collection of old electronics, but so, so much more could have been done with the exhibitions themselves.


Nicely designed toilet though.


A couple of weeks later I went to watch a pantomime for the first time since I was a young child.  In a caravan.  Oh yes I did.  It was really clever, 20 minutes long, amalgamating Aladdin, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella, around the modern-day theme of sexual harassment in the workplace.


I highly enjoyed it - and might go see their next performances at Vault Festival in February/March.

Then we went to look at a Gingerbread City - which was Instagram heaven.










The last one was my favourite as I just thought it represented modern life brilliantly.

These were all gingerbread buildings created by firms of architects, and on display at the "Museum" of Architecture - a very small museum consisting of one room that you could visit.

And of course, I did some culture in Hull.  There were 4 installations of robotic arms, programmed in different ways to represent communication.  Some communicated with each other, some communicated with us, some communicated with space - and the final one communicated with the statue of William Wilberforce.


Interesting - not overwhelmingly amazing but thought-provoking to an extent.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

The Big Detox

So as of January 1st, I started a 3 month detox.  Well, technically January 2nd once NYE has been taken into account.


Though I was quite looking forward to a detox and could tell that I needed it, I didn't want to do a 3 month detox.  My doctor is recommending it.  Yes, despite Michael Gove's proselytising, I have not yet had enough of experts.

A year ago I had some general tests done - I had some slightly unusual symptoms - nothing especially worrying, nothing serious or life-changing, but thought given my previous 20 years of bodily abuse, that it would do no harm to go to the doctor instead of ignoring it.  Perhaps influenced by my father having had cancer the previous year, it seemed time to overcome my pretence that everything will be always be fine...as things normally do fix themselves.

Googling had also started to make me worried that I had diabetes, kidney failure or leprosy, so it seemed the wise choice to go see the doc.

He said nothing was probably wrong but did some blood tests anyway.

Everything came back fine.  Except for my liver which was overly fatty.  He told me to cut down on alcohol, lose some weight, and go back around May for another test.

I duly cut down on alcohol and I continued to lose weight.  The liver does repair itself if you give it chance.

Then summer happened.  And I found myself working in the centre of London with temptation everywhere.  I slowly put on 12kg, becoming the heaviest I have ever been - and drank a lot.  A hell of a lot sometimes.

So I had a month long near-detox in September, and went back for those tests, thinking everything would be clear.

No, my liver was slightly worse.  Though this doctor was easier to understand, and much clearer on what I should do.

I could ignore it, but the chances are that I would develop problems with my liver if I continued my lifestyle without giving my liver chance to fully recover.

So the options were 4-6 months with only 1 or 2 beers a week.  Or 3 months without.  Apparently the liver needs this long to repair damage - my annual month off is barely scratching the surface.

Fuck teasing myself with 1 beer a week, especially when the sun comes out in spring.  I'd rather go without.

I asked if there was anything else that I should avoid - energy drinks, perhaps?  Apparently they are fine, but he recommended that I avoid or reduce red meat if possible - though he did say he wouldn't expect it as it isn't a perfect world.  Which means cutting out beef, lamb, pork, pork chops, pork belly, bacon, ham, chorizo...you get it.  Sigh.  I've decided to cut out most red meat - once a week at most, ideally once a fortnight if I can.

So.  Three months of no alcohol, and only having red meat once a fortnight.

And that includes my birthday.  Yikes.

I'm cutting out caffeine too.  And cakes - maybe one a week at most.

Might have to keep chocolate in the mix though.

Roll on April 2nd.

Friday, December 08, 2017

James Went To Sevilla

Back in September, I decided that I'd like another holiday before the end of the year - I wanted to sit and drink beer in the sunshine one final time before winter arrived.  So I stopped drinking for a few weeks (minus one or two very minor aberrations).

I didn't know where to go, or who to go with.  I did suggest to a couple of friends about the idea of going away, but none seemed even remotely keen but I'd also been thinking about going away by myself.  I was going to do the Swiss Alps trip by myself - I didn't expect my sister to be keen when I semi-drunkenly mentioned it last year.

I am quite comfortable on my own - I've had to learn to be so and it hasn't been easy in the past.  So I had been seriously considering the idea of going away by myself for a year or so, and I didn't put much effort into finding a companion once I'd asked a couple of people.

Why Sevilla?

When my colleagues asked me, I simply said that I wanted to look at Spanish women.


Google had made promises to me and I had to go look myself.

The first realistic week that I could afford was the first full week of November and I didn't expect many places in Europe would be warm and sunny at that point.  South of Spain was the one likely spot, and my parents had visited Sevilla earlier this year and were rather enamoured by it.

Whilst I begrudged the idea that I was not visiting a new country, it ticked my boxes - cheap, good food, pretty women, and some culture.

It was a frosty morning and I was getting one of the first tubes of the day.  I was still quite zombiefied (and a touch hungover from my dinner and drinks the day before) when arrived into the glory of Luton airport.

Though Luton airport was less shit than I expected, and I even managed to find an affordable pint of craft lager.  Airport beers are obligatory, even early on a Monday morning by yourself.

My Easyjet flight was surprisingly relaxing - I could have been on any airline, and nobody tried to sell me something every 10 minutes.  At least that I noticed.

My apartment was small - a fairly cheap airbnb affair.  My host was very friendly and helpful - thankfully he spoke more English than I did Spanish though I tried my Spanish "skills" when writing.  It had everything I wanted in one small, cosy apartment.  Not sure I would want to live in such an apartment, but it would be a perfect starter home for someone wanting to get onto the property ladder in Spain.  Or around £400,000 in London.

The first priority was to put my shorts on, get a beer and start reading my £0.01 book from Amazon, Adventures on the Wheels of Steel: The Rise of the Superstar DJs by Haslam, a book about the history of music scenes and in particular DJs, with the obligatory fawning chapter over the wonderful Jimmy Savile, and all the charity work he did.  At least he was apparently wonderful when the book was written a good 15 years or so ago.

I made it to some long open boulevard that my host had recommended me.  It wasn't the most salubrious of areas but at least the relatively low-lying sunshine was shining on me due to the open expanse.  My abiding memory was of lots of flies, which kind of suited reading about how revolutionary Jimmy Savile was as a DJ.  Shudder.

For the rest of the day, I wandered around aimlessly, had a couple more beers, bought the obligatory ham, cheese and baguette for the apartamento in case I became hungry.  In the evening I went out for food, again I took my host's recommendation and went to a tiny little side street tapas place - I had two unimpressive dishes and a beer for a very impressive €4.40.  Just over half the amount I had paid for a plate of broccoli the day before.  Seville is cheap - even when I mistakenly sat down in a tourist trap cafe, I only paid €3.50 for a large cerveza.


My meal was culinary disappointing enough to dissuade me from spending any more money - and I was trying to do the trip on just €120 of spending money (I failed but not by much).

At the end of the day I wasn't impressed with Seville.  Neither charmed nor interested - I'd drank cheap beer with flies and had fairly uninteresting but cheap food.  Oh and why did pretty much every dish come with fries?  Oh, and I had only fallen in love once.  Where were all the hot Spanish flamenco dancers on every street corner that Google Images promised?

I don't like failure so I needed a plan, and decided to book a tour of Seville for the next day.  Two tours, in fact - both free tours (albeit with a tip being socially acceptable - and deserved).


The first tour was a tour through the historic part of the city to see the monuments.  There were two tours, one Spanish and one English.  The Spanish one, of course, was headed by a super-hot senorita.  I decided English would be more appropriate - he did once live in Manchester and was astounded by newspaper headlines of incoming heatwaves...with temperatures of 20'C.


Seville in the summer reached 46'C this year.  I would probably die.  I was perfectly happy in temperatures of 22'C to 25'C - though the mornings were notably chilly, and as soon as the sun disappeared by around 6pm, it quickly got chilly again.  Even I needed a jacket in the evening.  Yes, I did get one or two strange looks for wearing shorts - either that or Spanish women were finding me surprisingly attractive - I am going for the former.

So the tour.  We went past churchy stuff, though thankfully being on holiday without my sister meant I didn't have to then later go in them.  We went past the city hall, which amusingly one side was not decorated on the outside as they had run out of money in whatever century it was build - and could either afford to finish decorating the building, or throw a party for whoever it was being built for.  They chose the party.  I do love the Spanish.


We went past the palace, Alcazar, though not an awful lot to see on the outside, we were regaled by stories from our guide.  And then onto the university - which used to be a tobacco factory.

Then finally onto a set of buildings that were built by other countries as gifts to Spain, in some form of Expo.  As you can see, I haven't remembered much of the historic details - but there was some stunning architecture, especially in the beautiful park to finish.

The tour was excellent - I really do not know why I don't do guided tours when I go abroad.  This will change.  Especially if they are free.

Time for a couple of beers in the sunshine, and back to my book.

By late afternoon I went on another tour, this time of the old gypsy district, which used to be a no-go area historically.  And also where Flamenco dancing was reputedly from.

This tour guide was also excellent - though he only had two of us to show around.  Some of it was a bit churchy and stuff, but some of it was fascinating about the history of Seville, and this particular district - especially in regards to the history of the Moors.  I won't attempt to reproduce it in print as it would only be #fakehistory.

In the evening I also had my best meal of the holiday.  I spent ages trying to research tapas places - nowhere convinced me until I found a place called Bodega Dos De Mayo.  When I arrived, fairly late, it was busy and there was nowhere to sit.  I did think about going elsewhere, but I ignored my stabs of impatience and solo social awkwardness and hung on the street corner (I didn't see any prostitutes in Seville, by the way) until a table came free.


I was thankful that I did - the pork loin (with fries, of course) was beautiful.  I then tried two new dishes.  Firstly I tried bull - it was very earthy and almost had a touch of liver about it.  Very nicely cooked though I will happily ignore it on future menu lists.  And then patatas sevillanos, which was a gorgeous dish of potatoes, spring onions, chives, some kind of sauce - and then a chunk of tuna oddly placed on top - as you do...the Spanish are bloody weird at times.




For the final day, I wanted to do something cultural, have some chorizo, some churros and some flamenco.  I didn't have much money left so that was a factor in my decision making - for when is it not?!

I started with a small plate of chorizo and fried eggs.  Quite why it was so hard to find chorizo in Seville, I never found out.  And I wasn't that impressed with my decision making - I could have made this back home in England.  What was I doing?


I tried to make up for this by finding some churros - my Spanish amiga raves about them - I think I have had them in England once, thought there were rubbish but assumed that was because I had bought them from Nando's or whatever chain hole it was.

All day I looked for them, but nada.  Then I remembered that the oldest bar in Seville was supposed to be the best place.  I went in and asked in my best Spanish.  He didn't understand me.  I typed "churros" on my phone and he barked back at me, "no".  OK...

But on the street corner near my house, there was a little takeaway stand.  The not so attractive Spanish lady serving me was very efficient.  Alas, the dreadful churros I had in England were far superior and I ended up throwing them away.  The chocolate they came with was particularly naff.  I blamed my decision making process again.


Churros are shit.  Do not be fooled by Spanish people telling you otherwise.

Thankfully, my decision making process was spot on for which cultural visit to undertake, for Alcazar was rather wondrous.


A sprawling palace with very large grounds, I found myself getting completely lost on a few occasions - once in a maze which I decided to enter, believing that it wasn't really a maze and then getting stuck.  The peacocks found their way out quite easily by going through the small gaps at the bottom.



It was a truly beautiful place and where the King & Queen of Spain stay now when they visit Sevilla. I could have spent hours in there but I fancied a beer so off I went to sit, read my book again, and watch the world go by.  Or watch Spanish women cycle by.

I ended up a little tipsy that night and decided to have a steak.  Not exactly especially Spanish but hey.  It was good but nothing I'd not had before - and by this point I was relying on my card to pay and of course it wouldn't.  I feared a stint of washing up but managed to find a working cash point at the third attempt.


That will have to do you.  I started writing this when I got back which was a month ago.  And have only just finished it now.

By the end of the visit I was properly enchanted by Seville.  I loved all the cute little roads and how close everything was - rarely did I walk down a road twice.  I liked the laid back atmosphere, yet there was still a vibrancy.  It did almost have a cool Californian feel to it in places, with lots of people cycling, skating and rowing - yes on the river there were loads of people in canoes and kayaks, every single time I went past.  Yet I only saw one gym.  I did see a few fat Spanish women.


It even has a music scene.


Alas, I didn't make it to a flamenco show.  I considered buying a flamenco dress apron for a giraffe, but as I live on my own and use water and soap to clean my hands instead of aprons, it would have been fairly pointless.  It was enough to amuse myself at the thought.

I know a flamenco dancer in the UK anyway - albeit she never invites me to her shows.  I may have popped the myth about Spanish women being exceptionally beautiful too - or maybe I just expected too much from all the beautiful women in Ibiza.

The food was good but not brilliant - it was gloriously cheap over there though.

Seville is definitely up there with my favourite cities that I have ever visited.  Not quite in the must-visit category with Berlin and Barcelona - but in the secondary category.

I did really, really like Seville.  And there were even a few people with mullets there.  Modern mullets - like mine.

Adios.  Next up for me on my travels is Madrid, in April, for my father's retirement.

Thursday, November 02, 2017

Nearly Holiday Time

1 more working day and I have a whole week off work.

In fact, it isn't even a proper day of work tomorrow as the afternoon is an OKR session followed by some form of beer.

I do need a week off.  I've required a holiday for ages.  This will actually be the first full week off work since I started my job in April.  And the whole time that I was unemployed I was doing 5 or 6 day weeks of 9-5 studying/coding.

So effectively my first full week off since Ibiza 2016.  Which wasn't exactly restful.

I'm not exhausted, but my pzazz has gone, my physical and mental strength is lower than normal, I'm struggling even to write this blog post - the words are there somewhere but pulling them out of my brain is harder than...nope...too hard to create an analogy.

It just feels like my brain is on a lower wattage.  Not at all helped by the ridiculous amount of weight I have put on since March, which is often down to me eating too much when tired.

So I've got a whole 9 days without any work.

More importantly, I am going to Seville.  Just for 3 nights - it was all I could afford, though I was quite impressed with myself to save up that much.

Why Seville?  I like Spanish women.  Have I ever told you that?  I am pretty much going so I can look at hot Spanish women.  With the side-bonus of having a few cheap beers in the sunshine - 20'C and consistently clear blue skies are forecast which is just perfect for me.


A quick Google search leads me to understand that most women in Seville dress like this.  Albeit with it only being 20'C, I am sure they will all have massive coats, hats, gloves and scarves on.  My shorts are in the washing machine right now.

I'm quite interested to go on holiday by myself.  Maybe I'll get bored on my own - but I doubt it.  I do, however, like to share good experiences with others.  I am not especially good at introducing myself to random people, but maybe I will get talking to one or two random fat, ugly Spanish women.  Los elefantes son azules.

Not entirely sure what I'll do.  I rarely plan a holiday's contents until the day before.  Ideally I won't spend any more than £100 whilst over there, or €101.  A lot of walking, a lot of sight-seeing, a fair few beers which I believe are priced around €1.75 for a pint, and some tapas.

I guess I'll go watch some flamenco too.

Who knows.  I'm just looking forward to not really having a plan.  Not having to think about JavaScript.  Not having to get up for work.  Sunshine.  Beer.  Relaxing - well...

Bye!

Sunday, October 29, 2017

My First Spanish Letter: Consell De Ivissa

Last time I went to Ibiza, I saw that the Consell De Ivissa had a 'Refugees Welcome' banner outside.  I thought that I should write to them.  9 months later, I did.


******

Hola Ibiza

Mi nombre es James y yo amo tu isla.  Lo siento por mi Español malo.  Estoy apriendo.  Yo intento.

Lo siento acerca Brexit.  Y lo siento acerca estupido politicos hablamos acerca guerra entre Inglaterra y Español.

Yo penso Brexit sera muy malo.  Muy mierde.

Es posible necessito escapar.  Cuando yo visite Eivissa año pasado, yo vez un poster de "Refugees Welcome".  Esto incluye Ingles Brexit refugees como yo?  Si se convierte muy malo cuando (si?) salimos, necesito salido Brexitland - sere un refugee.

Puedo beuno por Eivissa.

Primero, amo tapas - yo cocino bueno.

Siguente, soy un DJ.  Pero todos un DJ - tu eres un DJ tambien?

Puedo ser un empresario y emplear unos Ibicenos.  No, no vendo drogas - hago sitios web.

Y yo soy un critico de cena de asado - el especialidad de gran Bretaña.  Ayudo los restaurants en la isla mejorar sus cenas de asado.

Finalmente, soy un pronóstico del tiempo - bastante famoso tambien.

Puedo perfecto por Eivissa, no?  Entonces en uno o dos años, cuando sere un refugee, puedo un refugee en Eivassa?

Por favor.

Adios

James Winfield

******

This was sent back in June.  I did not receive a response  I appreciate that Spanish people have long holidays so I followed up in September:

******

Hola Eivissa

No me recibi un repuesta.  No me amo?

El verano es terminado (esta terminado en Londres en Julio), espero oigo hasta pronto.

Saludos.

James

******

Still no response.  Fucking Brexit.

Saturday, October 07, 2017

Complaint: Yoghurt Pots


Hi Sainsbury's

Long time no speak.  Well I did e-mail you some time ago but I never received a response.  I had to e-mail directly as the form wasn't working.

Though that was also a long time ago.  Depending on your definition of long.  And depending on your definition of time.

A long time ago, you changed your yoghurt pots.  I'm talking the excellent value 6x small yoghurt packs that retail for £1.10.

Gone was the strong and stable pot, in came the weak and wobbly pot.



It really is quite a flimsy design. 5 times now I have had yoghurt leakage on the way to work.  Thankfully I am wise enough to wrap the yoghurts in a plastic bag - however this does mean that I have now lost 5 bags for life with untimely yoghurt-based deaths.

This Monday was the worst spillage of all, though I'm sure you'll be fractionally contended to hear that it was in a Morrison's bag.  Don't judge me - I was unemployed for a while, I had to do some regretful things to get by.

And when one has yoghurt on the mind, one needs a yoghurt.  And without wanting to feed the rest of my office, I had to buy a single yoghurt from M&S.  89p that cost me.  WTF?  Gooseberry and elderflower though...hmmm M&S food.

Ooops, sorry.  Well no I'm not sorry.  Sort your damn cheap, flimsy yoghurt pots out before I set Theresa May onto you.

ps I still love you. x

******

Dear James

Thank you for getting in contact with us.

I’m disappointed that due to the new packaging of our yoghurts, this has resulted in a number of yoghurt fatalities. I can certainly understand your concern, especially as you didn’t experience these disasters before.

I’m sorry that this has happened, and that you then had to shop elsewhere. However, desperate times call for desperate measures when you’ve yoghurt on your mind.

I’ve logged your feedback regarding the packaging of the yoghurts, and let’s hope that in the near future the original packaging comes back to save the yoghurt lives.

I’ve sent you an evoucher cover the cost of the yoghurts. The value of the evoucher is £5 and the code is xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. This is valid for 2 years, so there’s plenty of time to use it.

We appreciate the time you’ve taken to contact us and we look forward to seeing you online again soon.

Kind regards

Saturday, September 30, 2017

James Went To Some Exhibitions

It always tickles me when you speak to an immigrant and they reel off all the places they have visited; Buckingham Palace, London Eye, Tower Of London, Natural History Museum, Science Museum, Imperial War Museum, Transport Museum...

You name it, they've done it.  You name it, I haven't.

It isn't because I don't want to go.  My to-do list is chocka with cultural activities, parks, museums, restaurants (and pubs) that I want to go to.  Unsurprisingly, I make it to the pubs - probably because it is easier to find someone to come with me, "do you want to go to the pub with me?" has more appeal than "do you want to come to an exhibition on photography of the Syrian civil war with me?".

I don't believe in regretting what I do, but I do believe in regretting not doing things, and there were 4 exhibitions that I really want to see, closing between 3rd September and 17th September.  My hand was forced.

On Bank Holiday Monday, I headed out to the Imperial War Museum.  The war in Syria has touched me more than any war in my lifetime, through the sheer wanted destruction of human lives, and the willingness of the international community to stand by and let it happen.  Special mention goes to Russia for actively encouraging the death machine of the murderous Assad.

The exhibition itself was of photography from 2013/14, showing the lives of ordinary people in the conflict.  It tried to focus on the human element and to be objective - some of the photography was stunning, yet emotionally devastating.  This was the most striking part of the whole exhibition for me.


Then there was a slide show of images from the refugee crisis - again highlighting the human catastrophe this was, and the desperation of those trying to flee to safety, and to a better life.

In a separate exhibition area, there was a small selection of artefacts, including this bullet-ridden road sign, and some disturbing memorabilia showing the relationship between Assad and Putin.  And a replica recreation of a barrel bomb - which I decided against photographing.



Then there was an 8 minute video, showing the history of the conflict, and also highlighting something that I was not aware of, that being of the great inequality prior to the uprising between those in Assad's circle, and those not.

It really is shocking to see how a stable and relatively prosperous country can be destroyed through civil war, all started from a few teenagers writing anti-Assad graffiti.

Once I had pondered what I had seen, it was time to go see something more cheerful.

Butterflies!

Every year I told myself that I would go see the butterfly exhibition at the Natural History Museum, finally I did it.  A relatively small price of £5.85 gained me entry on a hot day, to a hotter and very humid tent, full of tropical butterflies.

It was quite a bit smaller than I expected, and only took around 15 minutes from start to finish.

Not an awful lot I can say about it, plants and some butterflies.  Some exceptionally colourful ones - like this magnificent bright blue butterfly, or another almost luminous green butterfly.  One really large species too which looked more like a bird.


Actually quite a good photograph for my standards.

Not entirely sure it was value for money, but it wasn't far off.

Then on a Friday evening, I went to the robot exhibition at the Science Museum.  It cost £12.35 a ticket to go around a very over-heated section of the Science Museum.

It started with a baby, and went through clockwork machinations - none of which I was particularly interested in.

Then it went into a area showing more modern advances in robots (did you know the word 'robot' originates in Czech?), with a history of robots and the ideas around them in the 20th Century.


I was rather impressed to see the famous T2.


The exhibition discussed the ideas of robots looking like humans and how we interact with them.

Later on (not that much later as it wasn't the most time-consuming exhibition ever), we went through a more futuristic zone, with various robots that are used nowadays or very recently - many of which seemed to come from factory production lines.

I also found my girlfriend.


It was quite cool to wander through, but I wouldn't say it was worth paying for.  It was hot, it was very busy (despite ticketed timeslots) - some of the robots are going on permanent display anyway.  It wasn't as interactive as I thought it might be either.

Glad I went in terms of #FOMO but if you didn't go - you didn't miss out.

Finally, I wanted to go see Walala's colourful maze at the NOW Gallery in Greenwich.

I was going to go last Friday after work, bit of a mission to get there and then get home, but it was the last weekend that it was on.

I quickly checked their website at the end of the day, and realised that it was ticketed and sold out.  Oops.  Lesson learnt - if you want to do something, don't leave it until the last minute.

I did however console myself with a walk around the temporary installation of Villa Walala in Broadgate Square, at the back of Liverpool Street Station.


Next up?  Who knows.  I did want to go see the Basquiat exhibition at the Barbican, but it's £16 and I'm not that interested.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

BBC Election Complaint 2

Arguably a tad tenuous but hey.

******

Dear Sir/Madam

I note again that you have spent huge amounts of money covering what is now clearly a left-wing, socialist-promoting event, in Glastonbury.

This is completely against the BBC's charter to specifically be spending so much money and time on one long political event, designed to brainwash the young and middle classes into supporting what would be destructive socialism.

It is not only the coverage of his speech, but also the reporting of it, and the tweeting of his "ace" speech - looking at you Radio One.  Deleted, of course but not before the damage was done.

And now Glastonbury is a full-on left-wing, socialist political event, there should not be any coverage of it whatsoever.



Would you cover Jacob Rees-Mogg doing a speech at Creamfields?  No.  Would you cover George Osborne doing a speech at T In The Park?  No.  Would you cover Jeremy Hunt doing a speech at Secret Garden Party?  No.

It may be in the BBC's interest that the United Kingdom becomes Venezuela, as Corbyn's potential socialist dictatorship would likely require the full support of the BBC and the closing of all other forms of media - your competition, to be able to sustain such regressive policies.

And I expect that I will only receive another generic response - possibly generated by AI (that's not very socialist of you - Corbyn won't be happy).

However I live in hope that there may actually be someone in the BBC that understands the dangers of socialism and decides to take action to stop your constant promotion of socialism, such as the covering of Glastonbury.

Regards
An ex-viewer

******

Dear Mr Winfield

Thank you for getting in touch about our recent news reporting from the Glastonbury Festival.

We were naturally concerned to learn that you felt our coverage was biased or inappropriate, so we've reviewed our output and discussed audience concerns personally and at length with senior editorial personnel within BBC News.

To allow us to reply promptly, and to ensure we use our TV Licence fee resources as efficiently as possible, we’re sending this response to everyone. We’re sorry we can’t reply individually, but we hope this will address most of the points raised.

The key point to make is that the organisers of the Glastonbury Festival chose to invite the Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn as their guest speaker on the Pyramid Stage.

His appearance was not screened in the BBC Music at Glastonbury television programmes, but like other news outlets BBC News reported on his speech as it was a newsworthy event.

Some later BBC News bulletins included comments from Mr Corbyn's speech in relation to the Grenfell Tower fire. Here we also heard directly from the Prime Minister Theresa May, the Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government Sajid Javid, as well as Council leaders and others thus ensuring a wide range of views were heard.

BBC News also comprehensively covered a wide range of other stories, including that day's Armed Forces Day by providing extensive coverage from the Liverpool event which the Prime Minister attended.

We appreciate that not everyone will agree with our choices on which stories to cover, and the prominence that we give to them. These decisions are made by our news editors, taking into consideration the editorial merit of the stories at hand, and we accept that not everyone will think that we are correct on each occasion. These decisions are always judgement calls rather than an exact science, but we appreciate the feedback that our viewers and listeners give us.

Many thanks once again for taking the time to get in touch. We do hope our reply here helps to clarify matters and thus allays any concerns you may have had.

Kind Regards

BBC Complaints Team
www.bbc.co.uk/complaints

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On balance, I do think a fair response by the BBC.