Hide the Cigarettes, the Kids are Here

In an attempt to curb young smokers’ enthusiasm the government has now enforced a ban on displaying cigarettes and tobacco products in large shops and supermarkets. But it appears this ban is just another illustration of governmental wishful thinking. I am not aware of many teenagers who began smoking because of some really awesome display of tobacco in their local Sainsbury’s. In fact, I know a lot more who started smoking because their parents told them not to. This paternal governmental campaign is, thus, ringing all the wrong bells in teenage minds. If there is anything the government has learned while in power it should be - the public is highly likely to do what they are told not to. For instance, telling them not to panic buy petrol as a tanker strike is unlikely.

Moving cigarettes a step further away from the public eye makes them even more of a taboo. In teenage talk that is also known as cool. What’s surprising here is that the campaign is actually aimed at young people. An idea which I could find more appropriate is aiming the campaign at irregular smokers – those more likely to forget to buy cigarettes if they are not reminded by the huge counter in their local supermarket.

 Still, all the campaigns against smoking are entirely missing the point. Andrew Lansley has noted that he seeks to arrive at a place where “young people just don’t think about smoking”. Yet, I know one thing that is a lot more ‘in-your-face’ than tobacco advertisements – anti-tobacco advertisements. Has the government forgotten that all publicity is good publicity? As more and more “Smoking Kills” sings paint the walls of our bus stops more and more Marlboro bosses rub their hands and laugh demonically at the free advertising they are receiving. Advertising ‘Smoking kills’ across the road from a tobacco-selling supermarket is like advertising Alcoholics Anonymous across the street from your local pub.  Those who do it will consider the distance to the pub, compare it with the 08 number offering them help and then remember they haven’t had a pint in a while. Those who don’t won’t even notice.

This campaign is just another attempt to embody worry for public health in the spheres of government while still respecting the large and profitable market that is tobacco selling. An ambitious attempt considering that while the government embraces the capitalist ideal it is heavily pressured by the large businesses which sustain the UK economy – tobacco being but one. Nonetheless, an attempt that is not likely to make any impact on the audience it is targeting. For smoking to decline it must become unnatural to daily life, not simply put under the counter of daily life where we cannot see it, but we can still smell the burning carpet.

I assume you’re wondering – isn’t this article equally hypocritical to the topic it is discussing? Isn’t it oxymoronic to complain about the news coverage of cigarettes by covering cigarettes as news? But you see, I saw this huge poster of Pal Mal in my local Tesco and just could not curb my enthusiasm. 

Mirela Ivanova

The Avengers - Review

The Avengers do not simply Assemble. They explode, erupt and eradicate anything that gets in their way and so does this super slick blockbuster. At over two hours, there is little missing from the Avengers. The corroding cities, high-tech equipment and witty dialogue are effortlessly sprinkled over the occasional drama. Yet, despite the heavy reliance on well-scripted fight scenes and dramatic explosions the movie never loses trail. Fighting alone is not given for fighting sake. The Avengers assemble with ease, and so does the film. Joss Whedon handles the difficult job of suiting to the egotism of several money-making heroes without sparing anyone their screen time. 

The newly introduced Black Widow and Hawk Eye share an inspiring plot which offers enough space for yet another successful Marvel Franchise. Robert Downey’s Tony Stark is as sharp and narcissistic as always, Hemsworth’s Thor bigger than ever and Evans’ Captain America just as feudally heroic as one could imagine. It’s Mark Ruffalo’s unusual Hulk, however, that steals the thunder (and there is a lot of thunder in this film to steal). Although familiar with Hulk as a story, his laid back and somewhat comically melancholic performance as Bruce Banner is the most pleasant surprise in the film. As Hulk, his slapstick humour is also somewhat hilarious, although I’m still not sure why.

For Marvel fans and the casual cinema goer this film will not disappoint. It was a truth universally acknowledged that if The Avengers is successful its success will be absolute. Had it failed however, so would the accountability of all Marvel spin-offs. Luckily for them, and for the eager viewers, such a scenario is not likely. Nonetheless, for some, the grounded and plausible nature of Iron Man that was so appealing is here abandoned for the absolutely ridiculous. But no less is required from an idea of this scale. In fact, the borderline ridiculous is so appealing that we barely even question the alliance between Demi-Gods from an outer universe who have British accents in order to be recognized as separate from the American heroes (one of which is actually meant to be Russian – nice try Scarlet Johnasonn) and a frozen-for-many-decades Cold War hero. And if you do, you’re either ridiculous yourself or dull and heartless.

The Avengers have assembled. And like it or not, they won’t go away anytime soon. Rather, they will paint the walls, bed sheets, wardrobes, lunch boxes, bags, t-shirts and anything else you can imagine, of teenagers for some generations. But think of this as a positive thing. If there was any war at all that the Avengers would truly win – it’s the audience award. So rather than a slave, you are an actively consenting citizen of the ridiculous but comforting Avengers Universe. Welcome, take a seat. You have no other choice. 

Mirela Ivanova

Privacy protection gone mad

World leading bankers at HSBC have recently updated their Internet Banking security settings to prevent attempts of theft and fraud. Now, in order to enter into your on-line internet banking account all you have to do is – simply – enter your Internet Banking ID on the website, answer two memorable questions, enter a memorable password, then enter another password in a small device you received in the mail and wait for it to give you another password which then lets you view your accounts online. It’s not quite as straight forward as Open Sesame. But while avoiding the ‘memorable phrase’ category, HSBC are on a popular wave of increasing protection on private details. With the millions of cases of Credit Card fraud due to usage of open wireless networks the small Security Device which generates a new code every time makes it impossible for hackers to use your details. The main problem that arises with such extreme measures, however, is that they also demand more of the customer. Now, we don’t just remember our baking ID and date of birth (or some other security code), now we must remember the not-so-memorable names of dogs, cats, streets, schools and what not in our past in a fervent pursuit to defend our own identity in the eyes of our bank.

HSBC is more likely to convince you that you are not yourself than the philosophical dilemmas have for over two thousand years. It’s bold and flashy new website cautiously screams in red letters as you confuse your most memorable pet dog with your most memorable school teacher, until it refuses you all access and kicks you out on the street like a thief. Rejected by your own personality, you must then go and assert yourself in person at your local branch. So we will, sooner or later, all be heading to our banks, looking miserable and abandoned, to regain access to our selves.

While, it need not be argued there is nothing bad in security, one has to consider that with the increase of obstacles to something people are likely to do one of two things – abandon Internet Banking altogether or simply carry all the super-secret codes they need to keep in mind all in the same place, so it is easier to access. Neither helps the bank or the people as two passwords are not better than one if kept in the same pocket and internet banking, if available, is times faster and more convenient. HSBC and its competitors need to focus on achieving a balance between security and comfort rather than building concrete walls at every corner of our lives to avoid fraud, because the walls block our entrance just as inconveniently as that of the hackers.

Frankly, if the choice is between that new, super slick and reasonably cheap bath towel holder and simply not bothering to dig out the little piece of paper with my banking details I’d be quite likely to conclude there is nothing really wrong with my old towel holder and it was just the consumerist culture enforcing such ideals on me. Then I will sit in my bath trying to get my broken towel holder to stop slipping off the wall as I delight in my success over capitalism. Although a personal win, however, HSBC and the economy as a whole have just lost and will continue to do so until there is a safer but also faster way to manage my bank account on line.

In two years’ time all we’d have to do to purchase a book off Amazon is fax our passport, birth certificate, recommendation for our existence from at least ten written references, sit a MasterMind-esque test on our own childhood, attend an interview, do the Macarena and ride a donkey in a circle twelve times. Yes – that’s the future. And they say we’re not evolving.

Mirela Ivanova

Simple Politics

I attended a political philosophy conference recently. While keenly listening to the speaker's notes on Marxism and Rawls’ theory of justice I noticed quite an obvious divide in the Tudor Room of the Imperial hotel. Quite aptly on the left, I noticed the borderline psychotic Marxists who wore Dr Martin's and jean jackets with anti-governmental patches. They spent the conference reiterating phrases like "but surely the class divide is just as basic as it was when Marx was writing - the rich own the poor work." Alternatively they simply noted that any interpretation of Marx is far "too simplistic".
  
On the other side sat the "casual" Telegraph readers with their twig jackets and beige attire. They did not actively participate in debate, rather they smiled with condensation to every Marxist defence or slight joke about Cameron and co.
  
Having clearly administered the two sides I found myself wrongly sitting on the far right. I had missed the National Assembly in 1798, you see. The Marxists glanced at me with disgust. I then noticed my leather shoes and beige coloured frock coat. Having forgotten my "I hate capitalism” tattoo at my occupy St. Paul's tent I figured I'd prove them wrong in another way - I'd take part in the debate. I looked to the front and listened carefully to the point being made so I can participate. As I listened, however, my brain repeated obtrusively -"must offer a critique, must offer a critique". Having lost the trail of the speaker I turned to the window in search for an inspiration outside, but the only thing I found was my own reflection staring back at me with that familiar condescending smile. Well, I thought, what the hell. I took out my copy of The Daily Telegraph turned to the person beside me and said "So how much of a prick is Ed Miliband, huh?"
  
 

Modern day children and Dickens – a tale of pity?

Leading up to the 200^th year celebrations of one of Britain’s most iconic authors, the Charles Dickens biographer Claire Tomalin has claimed that modern children are incapable of enjoying the literature of Dickens. Further, she explained, “children are not being educated to have prolonged attention spans and you have to be prepared to read steadily for a Dickens novel and I think that's a pity."

Despite the evident smugness of her claims, it appears Tomalin raises a very pertinent issue in modern culture. It is not merely children whose attention spans are suffering yet they appear to be the group most thoroughly affected. Technology has given its best shot at increasing productivity by decreasing time. The equation is simple now – move fast, do more, think less. The internet knows things for you, your computer remembers them for you and your phone reminds you of them whenever you require. Even scientist have ironed-up - at Cornell University in New York, Dr Michael Schmidt and his colleagues have created a software package by the name of Eureqa which uses a Darwinian process to analyse data and produce the most likely formulae explanation. While the obvious benefits are the ease and fluency with which one can remain organized, (and for the scientist - a fall in sleepless nights of data analysis) the introduction of such simple methods at too early a stage can infringe the child’s long term memory. A study at Harvard University led by Dr Betsy Sparrow, has proven that the use of Google can affect the way the brain works. Giving a set of facts to two separate groups of subjects, the study showed that those who believed the facts would be stored on the computer put little to no effort in remembering them, while the other group who believed they would be lost had considerably better results at recalling the facts. Such a process of, what one may call, devolution of memory (or in other words adaptation to the technology) is certainly harming children. What’s the point of knowing how many were killed in the Second World War when you can ask Google and receive 260, 000, 000 results in 0.18 seconds?

Nonetheless, it cannot be denied that the internet’s database has fuelled the curiosity of millions who would, otherwise, have no way of knowing how to make jam or how many different types of sausage there are. (More than 1200 in Germany alone, before you scroll off searching.) Further, it seems foolish to assume, as Tomalin appears to do, that our parents were keen Dickens enthusiasts in their time. The truth is most children do not enjoy Dickens and not because of their short attention spans. There are two main reasons for the matter. The first being - many of Dickens’ novels were written for monthly instalments. Thus, whether he is a virtuous genius of the word or a divine talent for detail, Dickens wrote to a word limit which readers could spend a month dwelling over. The second reason is Dickens’s absolute immersion in popular culture. Like it or not, we would have all seen some adaptation of his works in some form (or on what Tomalin calls “dreadful television programs”). Like it or not, we would have all been fed a dreadful chapter or two of Great Expectations for months on end until we echo the perpetual groan of Pip at the hands of the terrifying criminal in a desperate attempt to explain how the dark graveyard provokes pity for the child protagonist. And that’s where the problem lies. The more we force children into mindless exam-cantered reading of any kind of quality literature the more were strip the work of its most essential entertainment value.

Thus, I would merely advise Ms Tomalin that next time she renders herself capable of sweeping generalizations about our youth and society’s ability to consume literature that is rich in description and detail, she should have a quick glance at the much too dreadful list of best-selling books of all time (on the even more dreadful Internet) . There, she would find none other than Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities at number one, followed shortly by J.R.R. Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Are you still with me? Or are you watching the “dreadful television program” adaptation of this article already?

Mirela Ivanova

The 84th Annual Academy Nominees

The Oscar nominees were announced this week merely to prove that the academy will remain a conservative force in the film business. This year the focus was, yet again, placed on the familiar faces, with Brad Bitt for what is to be his fourth nomination, George Clooney, Woody Allen, Martin Scorcesse and (enter another elderly famous film maker who hasn’t really made anything in a while). Very few surprises were revealed on Tuesday, one of them being Gary Oldman’s long awaited nomination for an Oscar for his role in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. In many ways, however, Oldman should not accept this honour. His longevity and variety has proven that talent need not be noticed by the Academy to be proven worthy. And I would suppose, Meryl Streep’s a thousand and one nominations for films like, I do not kid, The Devil Wears Prada, would prove a similar pattern. Streep is, undoubtedly, an excellent actress, yet the recognition she has received for films that were in no way her best work is actually appalling. The Hollywood tradition of name dropping so that the celebrities appear that Ricky Gervais touched on at the Globes last year still holds authority even at the most prestigious of the awards, though in a slightly classier shape.

This year the Academy has placed its bet on age and recognition. But it seems the actual films behind the names are of little importance. I dare not say that I found the Descendants dull and unimpressive, nor do I believe Scorcese’s Hugo brushes the dust of Goodfellas or even the stubbornly ignored Shutter Island.

I have a theory on how Oscars are distributed, and am willing to even share that for free. The Academy sits at a table once every 10 or so years and draws up a list of ‘good’ actors. These actors will win. They must. The only problem then is - what do we nominate them for? Well, we wait until they put something new out and then just place the golden statue in their hands. What’s that? Christopher Rouse edited another one of those Bourne films? Go on then, he’s on the list.

Sometimes, however, they mix it up a little. They throw in an unexpected nominee. This one person per category is probably the quick off-the-cuff addition given by a secretary or window cleaner who remembered what they saw in the cinema the week before. It could also explain their occasional talent for picking out truly admirable actors. In each category we see this scapegoat – the one name placed to prove how spontaneous and edgy the Academy can be. This year it is Gary Oldman, Rooney Mara, Max Von Sydow and Incredibly Loud & Extremely Close. Will they win? Of course not! Meryl Streep hasn’t even got three yet, and poor George Clooney is only graced by the presence of a single naked golden man. The better question here is – should they win? Then the answer changes. Then we begin to consider actual performances in actual motion pictures. We do not think of actors, but of acting. And where does that leave us? Well, Meryl Streep should probably win. I thought she was excellent in The Devil Wears Prada. Also, give Johnny Depp one too – did you see his moving performance in the Tourist? Yes, Ricky, neither did I.

Mirela Ivanova