You’d hardy believe that a book about punctuation could be entertaining, but Lynne Truss has achieved that here. I’d heard of the book a few times in the past, but only decided to pick it up after our introductory notes to the third-year report recommended it. I’m glad I did now. because it’s reminded me all over again why things like getting punctuation correct matter, and why we must fight to slow down the erosion of English.

Mmmmm… worked out nicely.

Microsoft has decided to put the interests of web standards above the interests of the Intranets of its corporate clients.

I advise you to read the previous paragraph again. Even two years ago I had never expected to be able to write such a statement.

The first section, Spirit, gives a brief scan of French history, and attempts to get a handle on the French mindset with regards to topics like globalisation, their attachment to rural traditions despite the overwhelming majority of the population living in the cities, and the value of rhetorical and conversational skill.
n this section, a whole chapter each is given over to World War II (1939-1945) and the Algerian War (1954-1962), such is the influence these events still hold over the country.

Structure, the second section, is possibly the most informative, but it’s also the most disappointing in style. Page after page of dates, statistics and percentages betray the book’s origin as a report for the ICWA, but this still doesn’t disguise how much information is presented: discussions of political structure (and the reasons and history behind it); distribution of power at the national, regional and municipal levels; the education system(s); law; associations and language are all present.

Finally, Change addresses the current political situation, issues surrounding immigration and France’s changing racial make-up, and the country’s relationship with America and it’s place in the EU.

Throughout, the authors cannot help name-dropping friends and acquaintances they’ve encountered, to the point that it becomes tiresome to read another anecdote about the hiking club or some politically ambitious friend, even though one is assured of being well informed about whatever topic is being discussed. No doubt is was felt this would provide a feeling of sincerity for the reader, but with this kind of overuse it ends up feeling forced.
The other complaint I had about the style was the frequency of descriptions provided in the third person, again, presumably, done with the aim of engendering trust, but actually coming across as badly realised Gonzo journalism. Take for example this first paragraph of the final chapter:

Sitting at his desk one Wednesday afternoon writing an Institute report one Wednesday afternoon, Jean-Benoit was startled by the sound of sirens howling in the streets - not fire-engine sirens, but air-raid sirens, distant and melancholy. He recognised the sound from war movies, but it was the first time he’d heard the wail for real. His thoughts spiralled. The Kosovo war was drawing to an end, but anything could have happened. Was there a nuclear attack? His thoughts raced to Julie, who was travelling in the Middle East. He thought about going down the street to the subway for shelter.

Of seven sentences, four begin He or His, yet the authors are not sufficiently well drawn as characters to justify this attention or to create empathy. Further, both authors are referenced here in the third person - who is supposed to be the voice here? If the the answer is “both” or “neither”, this breaks the facade of connection with the reader this style was aiming for in the first place.

Major stylistic gripes aside, there can be no denying the depth and breadth of information presented in such a compact book: in just under 350 pages, Nadeau and Barlow have managed to convey an insightful analysis of France, and more importantly, it the French. Bravo!

Sonic Boom Six opened promptly with an energetic set. I wasn’t familiar with their music before, but being a local band they received plenty of good feedback from the crowd. Taking elements from punk/ska, but also in places rapping like House of Pain or a far-more-aggressive Massive Attack. Definitely to be checked out.

Next, Streetlight Manifesto provided some high-quality (if slightly generic) ska/punk. I got the impression afterwards that these were expected to deliver more (they’d been hyped up to me no end), but they just struck me as a competent ska outfit.

Finally, Reel Big Fish took the stage. Opening with Sell Out, the crowd were immediately responsive, though the band came off as incredibly tame to begin with, especially compared to SB6. Later, SB6’s lead (female) vocalist Laila Khan returned to sing on She Has A Girlfriend Now, much to everyone’s delight.

I’ve been waiting a long time to see RBF live, and they didn’t disappoint. For the second time in a week, I was also reminded of what a great punk crowd there is in Manchester - the previous week’s Bomb Ibiza was also a great success.

MP3 audio (40kbps, 11.1MB download) / Ogg Vorbis (32kbps, 5.5MB download)
Note that quality is similar in both files, go with Ogg Vorbis if you can to save on bandwidth.

Apologies for the poor audio quality, the recording was made on my mobile phone, which saves to the AMR format. I cleaned it up (or tried to) using Audacity.

The only thing that riled me was that there were nearly as many people from the Manchester SU (who I went with) as there were from Liverpool! I realise the populations are different, but if Manchester can transport that many, where were the Liverpudlians?

Once the police had pushed us off the Liner Hotel’s property.

Placards and horses.

The placards were supplied by the SWP. The one on the right reads “get your rosaries off my ovaries” - great slogan.

Sorry the pictures are so blurry - not much light and being in the middle of a crowd makes it hard to frame a shot properly.