World is becoming more virtual with every passing day. I'm starting to wonder where the border between "the real world" and "the virtual one" lies.
Social networks such as Facebook and Twitter are no longer just a means of passing the news. Quite frequently, they ARE the news. In 2009 alone so many funny or frankly weird events which had something to do with social networking took place.
http://uk.reuters.com/article/idUKTRE5BS17B20091229
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Police reforms
Law enforcement agencies constantly give food for thought or discussion. There are so many issues on the agenda of police forces in every country. However, the problems bothering citizens of different countries concerned with their police forces are different.
According to the statistics, British police is considered to be the best in Europe and one of the best in the world. But there is still room for improvement for any police force. It was interesting for me to compare the changes the British police need to those that ideally the Russian police would have to undergo. Remarkably, improvements due to be implemented next year for British Bobbies include reduction of helicopters, upbranding of software used by police forces etc.
According to the statistics, British police is considered to be the best in Europe and one of the best in the world. But there is still room for improvement for any police force. It was interesting for me to compare the changes the British police need to those that ideally the Russian police would have to undergo. Remarkably, improvements due to be implemented next year for British Bobbies include reduction of helicopters, upbranding of software used by police forces etc.
However, a new ethical code for the Russian "grey-uniformed men" is targeted primarily at fighting brutality, corruption and general inefficiency of the Russian police forces. Enforcing this new code, Oleg Yelnikov, an Interior Ministry spokesman, thinks that “it is very helpful to draw this ideal picture as a way of showing the officer what he should strive for in his conduct". The difference between the two systems is palpable.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article5983401.eceAlan Alda - "Never have your dog stuffed"
Today I've finished reading Alan Alda's biography "Never have your dog stuffed" and felt sorry about it. Michael Parkinson characterised it "a fascinated read about a fascinated life". And I can't but agree with him.
Usually biographies are interesting in themselves just because of the scale of personality or the events described in the book. This is not an exception. Alan Alda is a perfect person for a biography. Actor in numerous plays and movies, among them the superpopular TV-series M*A*S*H*, playwright, director, writer, the host of the TV programme on science, and all this judging by the book he did with vivid interest, ingenuity and passion for the job - it's enough for the most fascinating life.
Add to this the style in which the book is written. Wry humour, colourful descriptions that help the reader create in his imagination any picture Mr. Alda draws, merciless scrutiny of his own thoughts, opinions, actions - in an amazing way Mr. Alda's autobiography is so subjective as in sharing the innate emotions of the writer, revealing so much of himself in this razor-sharp, smart, very emotional writing of his but at the same time as objective as humanly possible because every idea is thoroughly analysed before acknowledging its right to exist, every mistake is harshly criticised, every dellusion mocked.
As I read on, Alan Alda's biography gradually stopped just being a biography for me and melted into a philosophical novel based on real events. It's the kind of writing that forces you to forget daily trifles and relish the pleasure of pure thinking or pure feeling. It's the kind of writing that connects you with the writer, makes you feel everything he writes about is relevant to you and to an awful lot of other people. It's fascinating, profound and inspirational, in other words, a must read.
Usually biographies are interesting in themselves just because of the scale of personality or the events described in the book. This is not an exception. Alan Alda is a perfect person for a biography. Actor in numerous plays and movies, among them the superpopular TV-series M*A*S*H*, playwright, director, writer, the host of the TV programme on science, and all this judging by the book he did with vivid interest, ingenuity and passion for the job - it's enough for the most fascinating life.
Add to this the style in which the book is written. Wry humour, colourful descriptions that help the reader create in his imagination any picture Mr. Alda draws, merciless scrutiny of his own thoughts, opinions, actions - in an amazing way Mr. Alda's autobiography is so subjective as in sharing the innate emotions of the writer, revealing so much of himself in this razor-sharp, smart, very emotional writing of his but at the same time as objective as humanly possible because every idea is thoroughly analysed before acknowledging its right to exist, every mistake is harshly criticised, every dellusion mocked.
As I read on, Alan Alda's biography gradually stopped just being a biography for me and melted into a philosophical novel based on real events. It's the kind of writing that forces you to forget daily trifles and relish the pleasure of pure thinking or pure feeling. It's the kind of writing that connects you with the writer, makes you feel everything he writes about is relevant to you and to an awful lot of other people. It's fascinating, profound and inspirational, in other words, a must read.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
From prime minister to vampire
Recently I watched New Moon in cinema. Frankly speaking I didn’t like this saga at all, and the only reason I went there was Michael Sheen, who played vampire Aro in this film.
I think that Sheen is a wonderful actor and I enjoy all his works. First time I saw him in the film “Wilde”. I was so impressed by his acting that I decided to find out more about this gifted actor. I watched “Queen”, “Underworld” and “Music within” and got addicted to his acting.
The thing I like about this actor most is that he can play absolutely different characters from vampire and werewolf to prime minister and man with cerebral palsy. There are billions of actors who became famous for some role and can’t move from it. They always portray similar characters and even if they try to play someone else you can clearly see where they are from. I’ll never underestimate such actors, but I think that those who can play different roles are definitely geniuses.
For example, when I watched New Moon with my friend, it took me half an hour to assure her that Tony Blaire in Queen and Aro are the same actor. She didn’t believe me and kept saying that they are absolutely different.
As to his role in Music within I don’t have enough vocabulary to express my emotions. He portrayed a person with cerebral palsy. I was amazed by his performance. I didn’t see an actor, who portrayed a person with such a disease, I saw a man with cerebral palsy living his life. At some moments I forgot that Sheen didn’t have cerebral palsy.
So I told myself, don’t relax! There are many films with Michael Sheen that you haven’t seen yet: Unthinkable, Frost/Nixon, Bright young things, Kenneth Williams: Fantabulosa and many others.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Cafew
This Monday I arranged to meet my friends before leaving for Moscow. We thought a nice dinner in a cosy cafe would do just fine. However, the evening turned out to be more adventurous than we had expected it to be.
We chose a cafe in Harrow-on-the-Hill where we could have different kinds of food at reasonable prices. Having placed ourselves comfortably at the corner table, we headed to the cashier's to make an order. The cashier greeted us with enthusiasm and with a pleasant smile asked us... to show her our IDs.
My friend at first didn't even understand what we were required to do since we were not ordering an ounce of alcohol, and had to ask her to repeat her words. "You should show me your IDs otherwise you will have to leave this place", she said in an unconcerned voice. We asked for an explanation. She said that according to the rules if anyone stays at their cafe after 8 p.m. they have to show their IDs.
We were persistent and decided to try all the means to stay there. We insisted that we were Master course students and had our student cards on us. No result. OK, we were not having any alcohol, just a bowl of soup or chicken or anything else equally innocent. No way. The cashier was polite, understanding but she rejected our pleas to let us stay.
We left the cafe boiling just like the soup that we didn't have. It was only upon coming home and giving a second thought to this irritating situation I realised that it's silly to blame the staff at the cafe. They were just doing their job and doing it well. It's just the system designed, as I understand, to prevent adolescents from alcohol abuse by forbidding them to buy it at all. Which would be a great idea if it worked.
Unfortunately, the statistics of the increasing alcohol consumption among the young in the UK say the opposite. The number of teenagers and young people suffering from alcohol abuse is not diminishing drastically, as it would be expected, but is still disturbingly high. So unfortunately, age constraints and ID control work only to a certain degree. Most frequently, it results in chasing away potential mature and self-controlled customers (just like us *smiling self-complacently*) who just come to have a meal and even if they do have alcohol drinks it's mostly social drinking, for the sake of company, and not binge drinking, for the sake of drinking.
This is a complicated problem that can't be solved by simple measures. Probably, more
education on alcohol consumption at schools and first of all in families would be a good initiative, although of course it's difficult if not impossible to control the implementation of these ideas. But I still do believe that by forbidding alone no earth-shattering results would be achieved. People can be very ingenuous when they really crave for something, and therefore teenagers can find ways to get alcohol without actually buying it themselves.
Probably, a better idea of fighting this vice of heavy drinking would be promoting a healthier lifestyle, making it fashionable to look and feel healthy. Until dead-drunk celebrities rolling out of bars and doing crazy things remain role models for adolescents, unhealthy alcohol-consuming culture will blossom. And no strict regulations are likely to change this.
We chose a cafe in Harrow-on-the-Hill where we could have different kinds of food at reasonable prices. Having placed ourselves comfortably at the corner table, we headed to the cashier's to make an order. The cashier greeted us with enthusiasm and with a pleasant smile asked us... to show her our IDs.
My friend at first didn't even understand what we were required to do since we were not ordering an ounce of alcohol, and had to ask her to repeat her words. "You should show me your IDs otherwise you will have to leave this place", she said in an unconcerned voice. We asked for an explanation. She said that according to the rules if anyone stays at their cafe after 8 p.m. they have to show their IDs.
We were persistent and decided to try all the means to stay there. We insisted that we were Master course students and had our student cards on us. No result. OK, we were not having any alcohol, just a bowl of soup or chicken or anything else equally innocent. No way. The cashier was polite, understanding but she rejected our pleas to let us stay.
We left the cafe boiling just like the soup that we didn't have. It was only upon coming home and giving a second thought to this irritating situation I realised that it's silly to blame the staff at the cafe. They were just doing their job and doing it well. It's just the system designed, as I understand, to prevent adolescents from alcohol abuse by forbidding them to buy it at all. Which would be a great idea if it worked.
Unfortunately, the statistics of the increasing alcohol consumption among the young in the UK say the opposite. The number of teenagers and young people suffering from alcohol abuse is not diminishing drastically, as it would be expected, but is still disturbingly high. So unfortunately, age constraints and ID control work only to a certain degree. Most frequently, it results in chasing away potential mature and self-controlled customers (just like us *smiling self-complacently*) who just come to have a meal and even if they do have alcohol drinks it's mostly social drinking, for the sake of company, and not binge drinking, for the sake of drinking.
This is a complicated problem that can't be solved by simple measures. Probably, more
education on alcohol consumption at schools and first of all in families would be a good initiative, although of course it's difficult if not impossible to control the implementation of these ideas. But I still do believe that by forbidding alone no earth-shattering results would be achieved. People can be very ingenuous when they really crave for something, and therefore teenagers can find ways to get alcohol without actually buying it themselves.
Probably, a better idea of fighting this vice of heavy drinking would be promoting a healthier lifestyle, making it fashionable to look and feel healthy. Until dead-drunk celebrities rolling out of bars and doing crazy things remain role models for adolescents, unhealthy alcohol-consuming culture will blossom. And no strict regulations are likely to change this.
So who is the president?
I decided to take a good look at the Berlusconi’s scandal, when some mad man broke his nose. I looked through different papers, when the Daily Mail attracted my attention.
Strangely enough, it wasn’t about Silvio Berlusconi’s trauma.
It was about journalistic accuracy. In the middle of the article I read that French and Russian presidents support Berlusconi and I was shocked to find out that Russian president was Putin.
Wait a minute, I wasn’t in Russia only three months but somehow the president became Putin?The responsible Daily Mail editor even didn’t want to google the name of Russia’s president…
It’s clear that some people think that the real Russian president is Putin. Believe me, as a Russian living in the UK I’m tired to hear this question: “So who is the real president of Russia?”
However, it’s not an excuse for a journalist and editor to make such a mistake. As a Russian I feel bad, when I read such things. It looks as though we live in Stone Age and it’s impossible to check the information you write!
Frankly speaking, I don’t understand what this situation actually means. The Daily Mail is a middle market newspaper, but I can’t believe that unqualified people can work there. Somehow I think that maybe they just want to show their attitude to Russia? I feel some kind of disrespect in this action.
I really hope that it was due to some technical problem and they will edit this article as soon as possible.
Chaos at airports
Living in the UK I got used to speaking weather to people. As a rule, everybody is of the same opinion: they keep complaining about it. 20 minutes at the platform waiting for a train under never-ending drizzle, and strangers become friends.
Yesterday, passengers at Heathrow, Gatwick and other airports had even more reasons to be unhappy about the weather. Unexpectedly large amount of snow had caused delays and cancellations of flights. Because of the unpredictability of the weather passengers were informed about cancellation of their flights at an extremely short notice, often after they had already completed the registration process, sometimes even after they had boarded their planes.
During an hour that we spent queuing at the registration (yes, I was lucky enough to spend only one hour in the queue!), an Italian lady standing next to me shared with me her sad story. "This is my fifth attempt to fly to Milan", she said with a sigh. "I've been trying since Sunday. On one of the flights we had even boarded the plane and had waited there for four hours when they announced that we're not flying anywhere". A young guy standing ahead of us turned and nodded sympathetically. "I undestand you so well! I've only spent 20 hours at the airport trying to leave this country. I hate planes, airports, snow. Hell, I hate everything by now!" he exclaims. A German girl joined in the heated discussion on such a (seemingly!) neutral subject as weather. "My flight wasn't cancelled but I still wasn't able to board the plane", she said in a resigned way. Quizzical expressions on our faces prompt her to elaborate. "Well, the registration queue took so long that I actually was late for my own plane although I was on time - precisely two hours before the flight. Just as they recommend us", she explained.
After hearing all this, I experienced a slight panic attack. I looked around. The queue ahead of me seemed endless, passengers from all the cancelled flights accumulated, and it took a long time to deal with each passenger's query since most of them had already rebooked at least once. People were understandably nervous and angry, the airport staff did their best to help but there was little they could do. I felt that the British weather that we so often complain of had decided to take its cruel revenge on us, and, just as the BA strikers, had chosen the least appropriate moment for its display of character. Right before Christmas when so many people can't wait to join their loved ones - what could be worse?
I was really fortunate to be able to make it on time: with lots of running and rushing, and sweating, and being dangerously close to a nervous break-down. But I finally got on my plane and arrived in the cold snowy Moscow. And for the first time I thought just how lucky we Russians are to have our snowstorms and snowdrifts as an everyday phenomenon in winter. Being used to this kind of weather, Moscow airports worked in their usual regime, and I even didn't mind gloomy faces of the airport staff and was almost happy to see too insistent cabbies outside the Domodedovo airport.
Yesterday, passengers at Heathrow, Gatwick and other airports had even more reasons to be unhappy about the weather. Unexpectedly large amount of snow had caused delays and cancellations of flights. Because of the unpredictability of the weather passengers were informed about cancellation of their flights at an extremely short notice, often after they had already completed the registration process, sometimes even after they had boarded their planes.
During an hour that we spent queuing at the registration (yes, I was lucky enough to spend only one hour in the queue!), an Italian lady standing next to me shared with me her sad story. "This is my fifth attempt to fly to Milan", she said with a sigh. "I've been trying since Sunday. On one of the flights we had even boarded the plane and had waited there for four hours when they announced that we're not flying anywhere". A young guy standing ahead of us turned and nodded sympathetically. "I undestand you so well! I've only spent 20 hours at the airport trying to leave this country. I hate planes, airports, snow. Hell, I hate everything by now!" he exclaims. A German girl joined in the heated discussion on such a (seemingly!) neutral subject as weather. "My flight wasn't cancelled but I still wasn't able to board the plane", she said in a resigned way. Quizzical expressions on our faces prompt her to elaborate. "Well, the registration queue took so long that I actually was late for my own plane although I was on time - precisely two hours before the flight. Just as they recommend us", she explained.
After hearing all this, I experienced a slight panic attack. I looked around. The queue ahead of me seemed endless, passengers from all the cancelled flights accumulated, and it took a long time to deal with each passenger's query since most of them had already rebooked at least once. People were understandably nervous and angry, the airport staff did their best to help but there was little they could do. I felt that the British weather that we so often complain of had decided to take its cruel revenge on us, and, just as the BA strikers, had chosen the least appropriate moment for its display of character. Right before Christmas when so many people can't wait to join their loved ones - what could be worse?
I was really fortunate to be able to make it on time: with lots of running and rushing, and sweating, and being dangerously close to a nervous break-down. But I finally got on my plane and arrived in the cold snowy Moscow. And for the first time I thought just how lucky we Russians are to have our snowstorms and snowdrifts as an everyday phenomenon in winter. Being used to this kind of weather, Moscow airports worked in their usual regime, and I even didn't mind gloomy faces of the airport staff and was almost happy to see too insistent cabbies outside the Domodedovo airport.
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