Robert Sharp

Pupil Barrister

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Slave trade and national pride

Longrider makes some points about the slave trade, specifically whether the City of Britstol should apologise for its role in the ‘slave triangle’:

Why should a twenty first century population apologise for something that happened two hundred years before they were born and therefore cannot have any responsibility for? There is also rank hypocrisy here that stinks like a slave ship. The Bristol slavers did not act alone. Their slaves were rounded up and sold to them by Africans. (via DK).

Quite true, but a question springs to mind: Does this hold when the opposite scenario occurs, and the 21st Century population wants to take pride in something achieved by the 19th century population? Ideas of patriotism, the sense of pride in one’s nationality, seem to be rooted in having some connection with our forefathers. If we’re not going to take responsibility for their misdemeanours, in a way we sever that connection. “Cockle-doodle-do!”
On a related point, what I find odd about the particular dialogue in Bristol is this: Was anyone operating under the assumption that the current residents were pleased by this particular piece of its history!? Of course not. Our political discourse takes slavery as an obvious ‘wrong’ – surely its abolition carrys an implied apology? I might go further, and ask that if the Abolition of the Slave Trade Act 1807 is not an apology for slavery, what is? I hardly think a memo from Bristol City Council will cut it…

Whining on the left, whining on the right

If there’s one thing worse than a whining lefty, its a whining righty, whining about how all lefties are whiners. Over at The Devil’s Kitchen, DK takes issue with the idea that the British (and specifically, the English) should overcome their delusions of grandeur.

I think that one of the things that I dislike about Lefties is their absolute fucking debilitating misery; for Lefties everything is awful and unfair, and the world is a horrible place because we filthy, wasteful, greedy humans inhabit it.

This is a variation on the ‘self-hating white liberal’ cliche, and it really doesn’t stick. To repeat myself: Just because we might feel ‘guilty’ about the evils of our own history, that does not mean we cannot celebrate and take pride in the positive aspects too. While we are indeed pissed off with “filthy, wasteful, greedy humans” it does not mean we cannot or do not delight in the amazing things that humanity does achieve.
Indeed, wonder at humanity’s capacity to achieve great things is the foundation for the Left-whiners’ obsession with equal opportunity. If half of the world’s population are living in poverty, then somewhere there is a Hendrix, dying of AIDS in a Zimbabwean township. Somewhere in Glasgow there is an Einstein, overdosing on heroin. There exist people who are born to fail, and no amount of hard work or focus will allow them to escape the downward spiral. Yes, this makes me miserable, but it is not a prior state of mind. The misery is borne of a lament for humanity’s wasted generations. I feel bad about it, but it is a noble shame.
Nor do I wallow in this misery, and neither does Chicken Yoghurt, the target of DK’s ire. If Justin complains from time to time, it is nevertheless a wholly pro-active complaint, and ultimately a positive thing.
In the same post, the idea of tribalism is invoked as a reason for why we should co-operate to make Britain great again. This tribalism is a result of our evolution from lower primates, says DK. However, he also points out that:

This planet and its inhabitants are a tool for humankind to advance itself: no other creature even comes close to our capabilities.

And this is precisely the point. We have evolved to a stage where we do not need to behave like animals anymore. Tribalism is not politics. It is not about ideas, just random geography. We have evolved to the stage where we should be able to overcome these tribal differences. With the birth of every mixed-race child, with every child born to parents of different nationalities, the tribes mix. The fact is, we shall soon reach the point where there is only homo sapien, and nothing more.
This is an anathema to many right-whiners, who are in thrall to tradition and want to preserve their little clubs/countries. While paying lip-service to the idea of free markets and unfettered investment, they deny the labour market the chance to move in the same way. Instead, ideas of tradition and Way Of Life are invoked to first keep people at home… and then again at the very moment they perceive “another tribe” moves in next door! If we are to itemise ‘ Reasons Why People Piss Me Off’ then the attitude of many right-whiners to ‘The Other’ would be top of my list.
DK asks us to unite and make Britain great again. Why so little ambition? If you’re going to be a benevolent dictator, you may as well conquer the entire world. Borders hamper free-trade, stopping human beings from interacting, trading and working with one-another. Abolish them, and allow innovations in one place to more easily foster progress elsewhere.
More on nationality coming soon… DK continues the debate over at his place. There are a few interesting comments there on the nature of human ‘tribalism’ and whether we can, indeed, overcome it.

Mouse

I caught a mouse on the street this evening. I spotted him hopping over the cobbles outside my local pub. Initially, I gave chase merely for the excercise, never expecting to catch something so nimble as a wee mouse. However, the streets are well maintained in certain parts of Edinburgh, and there were no nooks or crannies for him to escape down. He moved left and right along the curb, but over a long distance could not match my stride, and I always overtook him. Eventually, I was able to wrap my claws around the mouse, and engulf him in the prison of my palm.
It is strange to feel another creature’s heart beating so fast. He bit me a couple of times on the finger, but my grip only tightened. He soon learnt to keep still and take deep breaths.
Back in my flat, I deposited the mouse into a tupperware box and covered the top with pierced tin-foil. I added a small piece of bread to the box, and then sat back, in silence, to watch my new guest.
I have to say, it was rather awkward. He clearly felt uneasy in his new surroundings and did not care for the food I had provided. He just sat there panting, occassionally breaking the monotony by jumping up to the roof of his accomodation in a frantic bid for freedom.
Thinking ahead, it soon became apparent that going to bed would be difficult, knowing that a small rodent was in distress in my hallway. Lacking a hamster wheel or one of those plastic rolling balls, it became obvious to me that the entertainment from my new pet would be limited, and I soon resolved to release him into my back garden.
I took the plastic box down the stairs, and peeled back the foil. The mouse hopped out in an instant, and made for the door that led outside. The lighting in the tenament stairwell is pretty poor, and I did not actually see him slip out… but he was gone, and I was relieved that I was no longer responsible for the creature.
I was left with an empty tupperware box and the scrap of bread. Having no use for the leftovers, I pulled open the back door, and threw the bread out onto the steps that lead out into the yard. As the bread landed, I noticed a flash of black and white in the darkness: The cat from next door, out for a stroll.
Update 7th May: I was chatting to a couple of friends about this last night. They pointed out that my actions were “Really. Weird.” I’m beginning to agree with them. Why chase a mouse? Why, on God’s earth, take it home? I honestly cannot account for my actions. Interestingly, all the comments below seem to be totally credulous…

The medium of icing

My dear mother makes a point of baking a cake to me on my birthday, and posting it to wherever I happen to be in the world. Not for her a simple Victoria sponge sandwich or fruit cake: The gateaux must carry some bespoke decoration. In her time she’s managed cake crosswords, football club crests, a variety of public transport vehicles, and a three-dimensional representation of Marlinspike Hall, Captain Haddock’s ancestral home, with chocolate button roof slates (this was circa 1989, before the advent of the many cake building technologies we now take for granted).
However, I have yet to see anything quite so post-modern, as the offering I received this year.
My blog in cake form
Yes! A rendering in icing of an electronic page, which itself metaphors paper. Thank goodness I don’t have Google AdWords on the site at the moment.
I have to say I’m disappointed no-one has entered anything in the comments, but I guess my mother didn’t have time to whip-up any RSS biscuits.
Working with icing is no mean feat. I refer you to an amusing interview with the anarchic Todd Trainer, drummer with the seminal Shellac, leader of the bizarre Brick Layer Cake, and something of an icing artist:

Yeah. Icing has definitely always been a part of the visual aspect of Brick Layer Cake. All four records have had icing on the covers, both front and back covers – literally all the artwork that has ever appeared on my records is icing, so that’s a theme, an aesthetic theme … Icing is a rather limited medium – I shouldn’t say “limited”. It’s an unforgiving medium to work with, because you only get once chance to really do it right.

Airport Angels

I was delighted to play a small part in the production of Roam, the latest offering from the Grid Iron Theatre Company. The show took place in Edinburgh Airport, with scenes taking place at the check-in desks, baggage reclaim, and even ‘Air Side’ at a departure gate. Our role as AV consultants was to take over the display screens for use in the show, conjuring up high-tech thought-bubbles for the characters.

“Nowhere is the appeal of the airport more concentrated than in the television screens which hang in rows from the terminal ceilings announcingthe departure and arrival of flights and whose absence of aesthetic self-consciousness, whose workman like casing and pedestrian typefaces do nothing to disguise their emotional charge of imaginative allure. Tokyo, Amsterdam, Istanbul, Warsaw, Seattle, Rio.”
Alain de Botton, The Art of Travel

The play is a meditation on the process of air travel. It takes in themes of citizenship and national identity, and how different passports mark out fellow humans as either ‘them’ or ‘us’. One entertaining scene stages a revolution in Scotland, with hapless refugees fleeing to the ‘Cathedrals of Hope’ – the airports – to catch planes to the safe havens of Beirut, Kigali, and Sarajevo. While the unfortunate Scots are made to wait and fester, those with Rwandan or Bosnian passports are allowed to pass unhindered.
Seeing scenes from the play several times over, it was interesting to eventually let my eyes wander away from the action, to actual passengers and airport staff, who went about their business as the actors represented them:

“What makes an airport especially curious is that its look-alike settings are the scenes for the most emotional moments… people break down at departure gates, in racking sobs…”
Pico Iyler The Global Soul

It was very bizarre to see such moments of emotion reconstructed by the cast, and then repeated by real travellers, who were often totally unaware that a group of seventy audience members were looking at them. It is actually very easy to be so oblivious: one does not expect a play to be in progress at an airport.
The two quotes above are lifted from director Ben Harrison’s notes in the programme. He also says:

Multi-culture is for me the only way forward. It is an inescapable fact…

In the age of cheap flights and global communications, this is so true. This the notion of multiculturalism needs to be embraced, not rejected, and indeed reclaimed from those who have misdefined it as something wholly negative.
The run has now finished, the actors dispersed back to Beirut, Spain, Holland, via the same airport that they had been performing in for three weeks. I make no apology for not plugging the show before now: It sold out without my help, and received some pretty good reviews.
The show has also been nominated for several critics awards, which is pleasing.

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