Look at what you could have won...

The editorial staff here at nota benny would like to apologise for the prolonged period of silence. In the month since the last post the schedule's just been so hectic and full of exciting things to blog about that there hasn't been any time for the words to make the leap from brain to byte.

Consequently, dear reader, you've missed pregnant ruminations on such wide and varied topics as: the BBC's credibility problems (we're waiting for the other shoe to drop when people twig that star appeal and journalistic aptitude don't necessarily go hand in glove, that Brian Conley will never entertain you, not even in the middle of the afternoon, and that the Tardis isn't actually bigger on the inside than out. And that it smells of wee.); the theory that the UK's summer weather is just one big publicity stunt for the release of Evan Almighty; an appraisal of the tea and cake served at Buckingham Palace; and the delicate nature of complimenting a father on his teenage daughter without sounding like a potential sex offender.

Any or none of these subjects may crop up in the near future.

But coming soon, an investigation showing why if visiting the woods it's Swedes not bears of whom you need to be wary.

Panda pops

It's just after four in the morning. Technical difficulties at work mean I'm flicking through the channels in search of something to watch.

Did I really just see a bearded man in spectacles giving manual relief to a talking giant panda? Apparently, yes.

It's not a real panda, of course, but a person in a suit playing one. But I'm not sure that that isn't even more disturbing.

Now I know what they mean when they say it's always darkest before the dawn.

Am I a man or a mouse?

Surely one of the most exciting, magical and dramatic online quizzes I've ever seen, tied into the forthcoming His Dark materials movies.

I'm happy with a mouse, but is it accurate? Take a visit please and help me find my true daemon.

Seen and not heard

There's a device in Sylvester Stallone's sci-fi kitsch classic Demolition Man which assists the authoritarian regime of a 21st century utopia by cracking down on anti-social behaviour, such as graffiti and swearing. It's called the Moral Statute Machine, and its typical shtick (voiced by Nigel Hawthorne) goes like this:

"You are fined one credit for a violation of the Verbal Morality Statute. "

Then there's 1984's telescreens, the ubiquitous two-way transmission devices which prove to be Winston Smith's undoing. We all know how well that turned out.

So you can imagine why the news that city centres across the country are to get closed circuit surveillance cameras which tell people off for being unsociable might send a shiver down the spine.

But don't mistake this for another ominous step towards a police state. No, it's a good, happy community thing, apparently.

"It's very public, it's interactive," says the home secretary. And, according to the BBC News website, competitions will be held at schools in many of the relevant areas for children to become the voice of the cameras.

Oh joy.

I've no idea whether these things are being used anywhere else in the world, but do they really think that lagered-up pillocks are going to take notice? That people who are so self-absorbed that they don't care about their surroundings are really going to be shamed by voices of officious seven-year-olds coming from tinny speakers?

Despite the government's insistence that these are not surveillance cameras, isn't it a fact that if the system is going to work, people will need to be actively watching what's going on, rather than using the CCTV as a tool for review in the event of a crime.

Who will decide what constitutes behaviour deserving of reprimand anyway? Will the people keeping a keen eye on our streets stick to specifications and scripts or will they begin to feel they are there as moral arbiters, ready to scorn those who offend their Middle England sensibilities?

And will these cameras ever be miked? Surely that's the next logical step. Could there not be an argument from those in charge that, despite the further infringement of civil liberties, pictures without sound lack context, and hearing as well as seeing events might prevent miscarriages of justice.

"We know it's an invasion of privacy, but how do you expect us to take care of you if we can't hear what's going on?"

All this, along with the fact that the UK already has a respect tsar and police issuing spot fines for anti-social behaviour, leaves me wondering how long it will be until the government finally joins the dots on these initiatives and does away with the established legal system altogether.

"You have contravened the Blair Sociability Act. Please report to the nearest police station for processing and sentence."

It's a shame Nigel Hawthorne's dead. Sir Humphrey would have been perfect for the job.

Ugly Benny

So this is what it's come to?

From raging against the Academy to spending my days making barely comprehended yet sweeping observations about beautiful women in clothing worth more than I take home in a year? For shame...

That said, most of them do look fabulous. Although I feel I was a little harsh on old Meryl. But that "Devil wears Oxfam" quip really wasn't mine.

And okay, I know I said I was going to tell you a story about the hiatus herein, but I really haven't been in the tale-spinning frame of mind of late, such has the effort been in getting back into the old routine. But if just one person wants me to lay it all out for posterity's sake, I shall. Meantime, I feel I'm getting my blogging groove back. And this time I mean it.