Democracy,…

…said Churchill, is the worst form of government — except for all the others. I suppose I should be more cynical, but for me there’s always a magic about a general election. It’s the idea of a society collectively making up its mind — Hobbes’s Leviathan in reflective mood.

I voted at lunchtime today. It was a beautifully sunny day. The polling station was the village hall. I was the only voter about at that time of day (most people hereabouts seem to vote either in the morning or after work). Later on, I drove through some other villages, all basking in the sunshine. People were going about their daily business. But everyone I know has voted. And nobody knows yet (this is written at 9.17 pm) what they have decided — though the news media are full of clamorous predictions.

In about three hours we will have some idea how it’s gone. But, despite the tawdriness of some of the campaigning, this democracy is a wonderful thing, and something that we take too easily for granted. I remember wondering, as I watched news footage of people queuing to vote in Iraq a few months ago, how many of us would vote if doing so was dangerous. Or would we value our freedom more if it were threatened by thugs, terrorists and armed bigots?

The date!

Just realised (from writing a cheque) that today is 05-05-05. When I mentioned this to the kids, they looked at me pityingly. I know that look: it says “Poor Dad: he’s quite cool but a bit slow on the uptake”. Er, they’re right.

Oh no! — not MORE PhotoShop options

Yep. PhotoShop CS2 is out, with even more features than the CS version I use. I’ve worked out that if I learn how to use one CS feature a day, (there are apparently 494 separate menu commands) I will have mastered the program by the end of 2006. And now the goalposts have moved.

(Thinks… Ostrich posture best strategy: don’t upgrade. Pretend CS2 never happened and hope Quentin doesn’t notice.) David Pogue of the New York Times claims that there are “at least 95 Photoshop how-to books, 3 Photoshop magazines and 4 annual Photoshop conferences”. I’m not surprised.

The new, improved Tory party

Simon Schama on Michael Howard:

Then came the really worrying bit. The Somewhat Beloved Leader’s voice dropped, the eyes moistened, the smile widened. Acute observers could instantly recognise the onset of a Sincerity Attack. “I love my country.” Then he told us how he truly feels. About himself. About Britain. Proud. Immigrant roots. State school. Really proud. Work hard. Do well. What Britain’s all about. Not layabout.

But wait, there’s more:

This sort of thing is of course obligatory for American campaigns where the “story” of the candidate; a combination of autobiographical confession and patriotic profession, is the sine qua non of “making a connection with the voters”. But in Ashford, among the flowery frocks and jackets flecked with doghair, the narrative seemed wetly embarrassing. Then exit to reprise of Victory at Sea and sustained (if not exactly deafening) applause. The faithful were giddy with excitement. Well, almost all of them. One loyalist with a bottle-green flying-ducks tie, was still barking over the State of the Country. “Are you optimistic about Thursday?” I asked tentatively. “I TRY to be,” he conceded, “though I was going to desert the sinking ship.” “Where to?” “Montenegro.” “Montenegro?” “Yes, Montenegro. Not many people know this, but the wine is wonderful and -” (he whispered confidentially) “- they have the most beautiful women in the world. Though, of course they do tend to be a bit hairy.”

Lovely piece, reminding one that however grubby British elections may appear, they are a world apart from what passes for political campaigning in the US.