On plugging the phone into my computer one day a couple of weeks ago, I noted an update to the software was offered – version 5.0.1, to sort some ‘battery issues’ experienced by a few users. I hadn’t noted any problems, but upgraded anyway, thinking that the battery would get even better. Alas! I noted a rapid deterioration in my battery life! Angst-ridden and frustrated, I vented my spleen on one of Apple’s discussion board, and felt immediately better.

Now, the way these boards work is that once you post a message, you get all subsequent postings on that subject automatically delivered to your inbox. It is this seemingly innocent facility that whirled me into what is the World of Apple Users. Each day, I received close on 100 postings in my inbox – not addressed to me of course, but all commenting on a poster’s own experience of what is fast becoming known as Battery-Gate. This outpouring of grief was nothing short of Biblical.

A few of the early postings were useful, and pretty soon I solved the problem on my own phone, which is now (for the one or two people reading this who are interested in Geek, I turned off email ‘push’ and iAds) functioning very satisfactorily. BUT – reading other postings, I soon realised they offer a rare and intriguing glimpse into the hive mind of Apple. And also an increasing willingness – albeit often anonymously – to reveal our darkest and innermost secrets on the Internet.

We also have glimpses into private lives. Most of the posters are clearly male, and many (odd, for Geeks) married – a fair number discuss the performance of their own phone compared with that of their wife (get DOWN Freud). We also hear of sleeping arrangements – a number comment on battery depletion overnight, on their ‘nightstand’, and serious frustration on waking up “at 6am” to find their phone is dead. There are descriptions of the drive to work, using the phone for music, GPS, radio, charging the thing through the cigarette lighter, and (more often that not) the battery losing its charge “by 10.30am”.

Perhaps most intriguing are the comments positing political action against Apple. Not violent of course (these are Apple users), but along the lines of the current craze of ‘occupation’. So, one writer suggests “We should do a [sic] Occupy Apple, and start camping in front of Apple stores until this is fixed”. There is one vaguely threatening suggestion, though too unfocussed for beleaguered Apple employees to be concerned: “If my device doesn’t get its normal battery life back, the poor folks at the local Apple Store are going to have my family raging the place”.

There are a couple of other comments I should highlight. One is a marvellously sarcastic offering: “Hello, Apple. Are you doing OK? Everything OK?” This writer, after sharing his iPhone catastrophe, closes with the classic “Have a nice day, like you did it to me!” This thoughtful posting is not the best though. There is poetry in this bile-filled discussion, and for one writer, “I don’t know what to do with the phone. It makes me nervous, as the battery drains like sand through my hands”.

Reading this discussion, which now has over 1000 postings, provides a remarkable insight into our modern techno-culture. Apple, mostly deservedly, offers itself as a user-friendly, intuitive, leading light. It is the guide, visionary, mentor and – yay – Wise Parent, promising self-actualisation in Our World through something no bigger than a thickish postcard. Usually, it is ahead of the curve, and with savvy-marketing and high quality kit, prides itself on being a cut above (boring and buggy) Microsoft, new kid on the block (and unproven) Android, and (Canadian and largely self-limited to messaging) Blackberry. The ultra-angst shown in this discussion illustrates the PAIN experienced by Apple Adepts when their Parent lets them down.

It also shows the very public persona many are comfortable with, and together with FaceBook, and (Lord save us) Reality TV, illustrates how much has changed in the last 20 years. Where next, I wonder?

In closing, I’d like to share my own favourite from the discussion, coming pretty late (at around 890). This contributor is clearly fed up with all the iPhone immolation and the multiple – and in many cases complex and irrelevant – solutions to Battery Gate from other messages. Here is a slightly edited version of the posting:

“Continue all the heavy usage. Stop complaining. Keep using. Dead? Then recharge. Good Luck!”

Give that person a second iPhone!

The murder of David Kato

Of course, those of us who know anything of issues around sexuality in Africa will not be surprised. Writing from the Vienna AIDS conference in 2010, I reported from one session discussing homosexuality on the continent, that LGBT rights come low as a political priority, with negative views promoted heavily, partly in response to the intensifying impact of US-based conservative evangelical churches. Homosexuality is said to be ‘evil’ and homosexuals child molesters; it is accused of being un-African and a Western import. One of the most prominent pastors, Rick Warren, is on record stating homosexuality is not a human rights issue, because it is not a ‘natural way of life’.

David Kato’s death a few days ago – and continuing broad-based prejudice against LGBT in Uganda, and other countries – support strongly a view that parts of Africa remain entrenched in social attitudes that are regressive and completely out of touch with modern approaches to human rights.

Our problem, of course, is that (to steal a phrase from Paul Farmer) structural violence is often mistaken for cultural difference. African countries we are told (perhaps in response to vague notions of post-colonial guilt), should develop their own cultural and social frameworks, and ratify the legislation that they want. Well, cultural and social relativism certainly has its place, but David’s death reminds us that there must come a time when intolerant countries like Uganda should simply not be allowed to encourage attitudes leading to the suppression of minorities.

Interestingly, one does wonder where Uganda’s extreme response to homosexuality comes from, apart from imported ideas from US evangelical Christian leaders. At a ‘debate’ recently at Makere University, medical students cheered when one speaker, citing Freudian theory, suggested homosexuality is the result of a fixation rooted in an unsuccessful resolution of the Oedipal phase in childhood development.

Freud of course did have a lot to say about sexuality; some of his views have stood the test of time, though many others, including this and the associated Electra complex were, with hindsight, poorly argued and supported by limited empirical evidence (Freud tended to generalise from very small samples).

The speaker in this debate failed to mention another part of Freudian theory, the defence mechanism ‘reaction formation’. Here, an extreme response to certain characteristics in other people derives from recognising that tendency in ourselves, which we suppress, and channel the resulting frustration into violent prejudice against others with the same tendency.

Shakespeare recognised this when he gave a character in ‘Hamlet’ this line: “the lady doth protest too much”, in the context suggesting that an overreaction against something may indicate hidden affinity for it.

If those Africans so violently against homosexuality want to cite Freudian theory in support of the flawed view that it is abnormal and requires drastic repression, perhaps they should ponder the ‘shadow’ side of their responses.

Are they protesting too much?

Wait. Bulgaria? Let’s consider this tragic country. Population 7m (same as London), a health system since the USSR’s demise in a state of collapse, and the only country in the European region sliding down the human development index. And this is what galls me as a non-football fan. England players, those overpaid and underwhelming men, claiming that taking the scalps of smaller, poorer footballing nations is a mark of Great Skill.

I’m not denying that good football is great to watch, and can be a unifying force. I was in Bangladesh recently, during the World Cup. People’s enthusiasm for the Beautiful Game was infectious. Flags for their favourite teams - Brazil and Argentina – everywhere (see picture), clearly an indication of hedging bets for supporting a winner. Schoolboys across the country were kicking footballs around, often in waterlogged spaces (this is Bangladesh, after all), spray everywhere, but their faces shining with excitement.

But…seeing players from England, one of the richest countries in the world, overly proud of yet another victory over a small and poor nation still makes me sick in the stomach. Maybe I’m too cynical of the pop-star status of our modern footballers, but I can’t help being reminded of Patsy’s line to Edina from the first (and best) season of Absolutely Fabulous – “‘football personality’ is a contradiction in terms, darling”.

England play Montenegro in October. They’ll probably win. Montenegro has a population of 672,000. This is the same as Sheffield. News outlets will no doubt report England are again ‘back on form’. Hmmm….back on bullying form maybe.

[Update October 2010: England didn't win against Montenegro. Maybe they weren't sufficiently economically deprived.]

This was my 6th such event, and there are striking similarities between them all. At each one, there are a couple of important announcements (in Vienna, they were around a possible cure for HIV, and research suggesting microbicides DO work after all). There’s also all the demonstrating by lobby groups, seeking attention for neglected causes – in Vienna these included human rights, the homeless, and injection drug users. There’s ALSO all the complaints about what was missing – so, some African delegates were unhappy with the focus on Europe, other delegates were concerned about gender issues receiving limited attention – again. For this writer, the Global Village was perhaps the best one so far however – with allocated ‘zones’ for disability, sex workers, MSM, etc. a great idea, and the free cakes and drinks a real bonus!

One problem of course is that the conference is just that – a conference. Over the years, people have come to see the event as a representation of what is really happening in the world, because in some ways it becomes its own world. Twenty five thousand delegates construct a bubble of reality – a safe space certainly, and a place where difficult issues can be discussed without the fear of stigma – but at the end of the day it is not reality. Just constructed. For example, releasing key developments – these are held until the conference. Why did we not hear about new developments around microbicides before now? They must have been available for scrutiny earlier this year.

So, next time the conference is in Washington, DC. The first time two developed countries have hosted the event back-to-back since 1998. How will Africans and Asians, with the vast majority of HIV cases, respond?

I wrote some articles for the conference, and IF you’re interested, they are linked below:

• Another challenge for treatment advocates
• My favourite thing: a roof over my head
• Dazed and confused: Africa’s mixed up responses to sexuality
• I am 16, going on 25
• Sex, puppets and magic: educating children about HIV

Reflecting on my visit, what struck me were the CROWDS. The car park heaved with coaches disgorging a gazillion sightseers. New regulations at the museums now mean individuals can no longer wander around on their own, but are required to join one of the many guided tours. These groups are hurled around with little time to reflect at significant sites where especially egregious activities occurred (the crematoria; the gas chamber). Instead there is a growing anxiety that the guide’s voice is getting fainter in the radio headphones – where has she gone?

A couple of things to note. First, the fact a civilised and cultured country as Germany in the 1930s could stoop to such a level means no person or nation can risk the moral high ground of ‘this can never happen here’ – indeed, the UK, US and Switzerland all turned Jews, fleeing Nazi atrocities, away from their borders during the war. Second, Auschwitz and Birkenau closed only 13 years before I was born. This is not ancient history, and whilst other genocides have happened since, it is the systematic and scientific nature of this holocaust that appals. The ‘Final Solution’ was not the wild and reactive slaughter of Rwanda in 1994, but an organised and methodical programme of extermination.

Each person visiting these sites will have particular memories. For me, it was the piles of shoes. For others, the tonnes of hair, or the suitcases, or the small fire reservoir made to look like a swimming pool (in order to expedite rapid and trouble free transfer, Nazis often deceived Jews by promising a ‘new life’ in Poland, with fine living conditions and rewarding work).

Today, in spite of the crowds of people (I’d love to ask some of them why they’re here), a quote from Robert Burns comes to mind: “man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn”. The camps at Auschwitz, Birkenau, and elsewhere are testament to the indescribable cruelty people are capable of, given the right circumstances.

With no sign of the ash shifting, and nothing flying for at least 2 days (so it will be nearly a week since scheduled flights were grounded), it makes me think that maybe we are heading for a world without planes, as discussed by Alain de Botton on the BBC website yesterday – though perhaps its unlikely. We’re much too dependent on them by now – and where would all those stag parties go? Dublin by boat? Prague by train? Hmmm. I’m also reminded of a startlingly prescient story by EM Forster, written in 1909, ‘The machine stops’ (it can be downloaded here), which tells of a highly technocratic society facing extinction because one night, the ‘machine’ supplying all society’s energy simply switches off. Permanently.

If this did happen, developed countries would implode; developing regions on the other hand would be more likely survivors, being less dependent on the technology underpinning all our activities up here in the northern hemisphere.

Whatever: I doubt my booked flight will leave Wednesday. Like the growing number of non-travel malcontents, I’ll be searching for someone to blame. Wait. There IS  no-one to blame. Not even the Tories. Well, with spleen-unvented, at least I can catch up on my emails.

Until the machine stops, of course.

Hmm – as a strongly Catholic country, Ireland remains a jewel in the crown of what is the oldest international organisation in the world – the Catholic Church. Abortion is still illegal here, and women wanting a termination are forced to travel to the UK. The notion of pregnancy being a ‘crisis’ is a reality for some of course, but in a country where there is overwhelming pressure not to terminate because of religious mores, a church-based ‘crisis centre’ has uncomfortable overtones.

The second sign I saw – the call to Priesthood – brings to mind the current firestorm over ‘Priest paedophiles’, stoked by official reports received by the Irish Government recently, confirming that hundreds of children were abused by Priests throughout the country. Seeing the sign, I was surprised some local, dark-humoured wag had not added the strapline, ‘And enjoy working with children?’. But maybe that’s too cynical.

The Pope’s apology for the abuse, unique in the history of the Catholic Church, for many still does not go far enough. How much of a cover up was there? Why is the issue of sexuality still taboo? A BBC report states one guilty Priest defended his practice saying he assumed because his ‘activities’ weren’t with a woman, it wasn’t sinful.

There are no doubt many caring and principled people working in the Catholic church, but like all institutions, rooting out those who transgress basic moral codes should be dealt with according to laws – extant throughout the European Union – designed to protect the human rights of all citizens. Just because the Catholic Church claims to be nearer to ‘God’ is no excuse.

Ireland. SO many changes over the last 20 years, and perhaps this is the final sacred cow to be hauled into the 21st century.

I’m reminded of Irish-born Francis Bacon’s 1953 picture, based on an earlier 1650 work by Valasquez of Pope Innocent X. Bacon rather formally called this ‘Study after Velázquez’s Portrait of Pope Innocent X’, but it’s known colloquially as the screaming pope (see below). I bet – I hope – there is some screaming from Pope Benedict XVI in the Vatican at the moment. At least it will show he’s finally aware of what’s going on, and that the Church can no longer hide behind a veneer of respectability or ‘holiness’.

And no wonder; WHAT a film! Divided into three parts, 2001 traces the development of humankind, from our earliest ape-like ancestors 4 million years ago, through our first attempts at space exploration, and finally our (well, the protagonist’s anyway) transformation into a gigantic Star Child, hovering between our Earth and the moon, beckoning our species into an uncertain future.

Overseeing all of this are some nameless aliens, represented by a mysterious monolith (looking strangely like the UN building in New York – well, this is the ’60s). First the monolith rescues the apes from near-extinction by ‘training’ them to use bones as clubs, turning them from herbivores into hunter-gatherers and paving the way for evolution to generate homo-sapiens. Then, in the 20thC humans dig up another monolith on the moon, which promptly signals Alien HQ on Jupiter saying “the humans are here and they’re not grunting anymore”.

Finally, a monolith the size of Venus takes the hero David Bowman from his spaceship (‘Discovery’, sent to see where the signal actually went), through a star-gate to metamorphose into another stage of development – Super Being. The other star of the show is HAL, Discovery’s mixed up super-computer, who gradually descends to a level of existential angst making Hamlet look, well, cheerful. HAL, sadly, believes the mission is under threat because Bowman and his colleague start doubting his abilities. So, he enters cyber-psychosis, and kills all the crew except Bowman (including three in suspended animation). Bowman is forced to pull HAL’s plug.

When I first saw the film in 1971, it terrified and awed me. Its a startlingly original project, released at a time when most other films were bonnet dramas, war films, really silly Hammer Horrors, or risqué comedies like Carry on up the Khyber (though that was a fun film). The visual effects in 2001 – such as Bowman being taken through the star-gate – won Kubrick an Oscar, but it was Bowman’s sheer loneliness, 100 million miles from Earth in orbit around Jupiter, isolated in the deafening silence of space, that got to me as a teen-ager.

That and the eerie music. Much of the soundtrack is from the music of Hungarian György Ligeti, a fiercely contemporary composer (he died only in 2006). Through extensive use of microtones (those spaces between the notes on a piano), Ligeti creates a musical landscape that really does seem ‘not of this world’ – the effect Kubrick of course wanted (check out Lux Aeterna when you have time; and keep the lights on).

I came out of the theatre today stunned (and looking for a restroom). As an adult, I couldn’t help seeing the film in a different light to my first viewing (good grief) 39 years ago. Its message is still as strong…but what do I think now in 2010? Well, first, 2001′s technological prescience. Credit cards to make phone/video calls! Space travel to the moon! A space station orbiting the Earth! Digital newspapers! Personal screens for in-flight entertainment! Computers that talk! Flat screen monitors (yes, they were unknown in 1968)!

Second, the film also reminded me that now, at the beginning of the third millennium, our arrogance as a species knows no bounds – see the mess we’re making of our planet – so advanced beings may be just the thing to bring us into line (!). Its also a shame that when the apes learn to use clubs for killing animals for food, their NEXT target is the other ape-tribe down the valley. Whilst I have no truck with Golden-Ageists (see a previous post), it did remind me of human development’s Janus-face.

And the death of HAL still feels odd. ‘He’ was a machine of course, just programmed to be a ‘person’, but ‘killing’ HAL did seem uncomfortably close to ending the life of a living being that didn’t want to die. HAL was just a little mixed up, and his deteriorating mental health was (as revealed later) a by-product of internal conflict. HAL knew something Bowman didn’t at the time – that the mission was to find the aliens. HAL killing the crew was just cyber-teleology (the end – a successful mission, justifies the means – killing the crew). During the scene where Bowman slowly removes HAL’s processors to stop him doing more damage, the computer’s regression to ‘childhood’ then silicon death still feels genuinely unsettling. What defines a person? Is HAL different to a human? Why?

Kubrick kept the dialogue in 2001 intentionally sparse or bland (much to the chagrin of writer Arthur C Clarke, on whose short story The Sentinel the film is based), so as to give the audience free reign to construct their own interpretation of what’s going on. So, go see the film next time it shows (the DVD doesn’t really do the cinematography any justice).

What do YOU think it all means?

His presentation – around 25 minutes – was standard Sachs. World is changing; never been like this before; we have the capabilities to end poverty AND prevent the worst outcomes of climate change; economics can be a powerful tool.

What struck me during his talk was not just his optimism – though that was refreshing – but constant reference to future times. With climate change for example, he admitted at least 3 times that “we’ve messed up”. The next generation (so, most of the audience…not me though – Sachs is only four years my senior, ha ha) will reap the benefits or suffer the catastrophe of whatever decisions are made by governments NOW.

He did crack one joke – borrowed from the great JK Galbraith, an economist perhaps even more liberal than Sachs – that economists are put on this earth to make astrologers look good. Sachs is known for his idealism, rubbing shoulders with rock stars and the shakers and movers of our world (and also promoting structural adjustment in post-Soviet eastern Europe – less of a success, according to some). But I suppose at least someone is saying this stuff; he’s pretty sure we have the capacity to change, save our species from its headlong rush towards self destruction, and pull billions of people out of poverty at the same time.

Voice of hope or just blind idealism? You decide. I’ll be long gone before the skies darken and seas swamp our major cities. Sorry about the mess we left.